


Madness

by caitastrophe8499



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Explicit Language, F/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-07-24 23:32:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 64,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16185488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitastrophe8499/pseuds/caitastrophe8499
Summary: When prosecution lawyer Leonard Snart is targeted by an aggressive and violent stalker, Sara Lance is hired to keep him alive, whether he wants her or not. Tempers clash and dangers arise, because as Leonard and Sara start getting closer, so does Leonard's stalker. M for language, violence, adult situations, etc.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, something completely different.
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Leonard had long ago learned that gunshots didn’t sound like they did in the movies. They weren’t this loud, percussive explosion. More of an irritating popping sound, and despite knowing that, when he heard it walking to the door of his building, he still thought it was just some shit kids with fireworks.

Of course, the pain that exploded in his left arm and chest made him rethink that.

He remembered hitting the asphalt outside his apartment hard, blood filling his mouth as his teeth nearly went through his lip. He cursed himself for forgetting, even for a second, what his life was like.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up in the hospital.

Mick Rory, an immovable force of spite and liquor, was sprawled over the single chair in the quiet room, the lack of light from the window making it clear it was either very late the same evening, or an entire twelve hours later. Neither of those were preferable options.

“What happened?” Leonard said, sitting up in the bed with a wince.

“You got fucking shot,” Mick rumbled, sitting up straighter. His wide shoulders strained his jacket, the closely shaved head adding to his intimidation. “Like I fucking said you would.”

Leonard tried and failed to take in an entire breath. “How bad is it?”

“Missed your lung. By that much,” Mick said, holding his fingers barely apart. “You got lucky.”

Pressing his hand against his chest, he swung his legs to the side of the bed, before pain lanced through him and forced him back against the pillow. “Shit…”

Mick stared at him for a long, long moment. “You gonna give this shit up?”

“I’m not giving up anything,” Leonard retorted, his weak voice irritating him. “They’d only try this if I’m getting close to something-”

“Well, they just got fucking close, Snart!” Mick shouted, “What about that police protection you were supposed to have?”

Leonard rolled his eyes and Mick sighed. “Figures.”

They both knew that CCPD was too underfunded to maintain decent protection on him 24/7. And with the number of death threats he’d gotten, it made sense that they couldn’t keep up on them all. There was also that little incident with Leonard prosecuting one of the boys in blue, so certain shifts on the force really didn’t care to keep up with the protection. Such was the life of Central City’s most infamous prosecution lawyer.

“I need to make some phone calls,” Mick said, getting to his feet. “Rest up. I’ll be outside, so no one should try to kill you in the next fifteen minutes.”

“Comforting,” he said, trying not to show how exhausted he was as he leaned back on the bed.

“Go to sleep, boss,” Mick repeated. “I’ll take care of this.” He shut the door and Leonard could hear him talking into his phone quietly.

Despite the differences in their sizes, backgrounds, careers, and tax brackets, Mick Rory had been Leonard's closest friend his entire life. Mick had bounced around from job to job for quite some time, some more legal than others, before Leonard had gotten him a position as an investigator at his firm. Mick enjoyed the hands on work, and the opportunity for a little feather-ruffling was always available.

A buzz from his left had Leonard reaching for his phone - gunshot or not, work was work. Before he could touch it, Mick opened the door.

“You touch that phone and I’ll throw it through the fucking wall.”

Leonard stopped. Not because he feared the threat, but because the last three times Mick had followed through with it. He didn't have time to transfer all of his data over yet again. “Fine.”

He reclined back on the bed, and closed his eyes, fully intending to fake it until Mick was gone. The joke was on him, however, because the next thing he knew, Mick was slamming open the door and the room was much brighter.

Blinking at the light, he glared at Mick, sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Just past nine. Doc says you can get sprung after eleven.” He passed Leonard a large cup of coffee. “She said to read through this packet and let her know if you’ve got any questions. Also,” he handed the packet and two business cards over, “her number in case you get any complications, and the number for a shrink, in case you get stressed about being shot or whatever.”

“Thanks,” Leonard deadpanned. “Did you grab-”

Suddenly, Leonard saw someone in the doorway, leaning on the jamb and obviously listening to the conversation. Her blonde hair hung over her shoulders, the dark grey cargo pants tucked into scuffed boots. Her white tank top was covered with a black leather jacket and Leonard could see the very obvious holster at her hip. Her blue eyes stared openly at him, no shame in being caught, and the smirk on her face was clearly at his expense.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice dropping in temperature.

The grin widened. “You’ve got it backwards.”

“Come again?”

“I’m here to help you,” she clarified, stepping into the room and closing the door. “Thought you were some brilliant lawyer or something.”

Leonard turned to Mick, doing his best to control his temper. “Care to explain?”

Mick crossed his arms, already on the defensive, which wasn’t a great sign. “You continuously choose the jobs with the biggest fucking threats. You aren’t gonna stop. Cops aren’t gonna do shit.”

“I’ve been getting threats for years,” Leonard reminded him.

“Yeah, but this time, someone’s actually following through with it!” Mick shouted. “I can’t be there all the time, and even if I could, I don’t know what the fuck to watch out for. You need protection.” He waved his arm at the girl.

Leonard scoffed, “You’re joking.”

Mick’s brow arched and the girl in the door smiled coldly.

“See how much I’m not laughing,” she said, gesturing at her face.

“How the hell are you supposed to do anything about this?” Leonard asked. “You’re a little girl.”

“First of all,” she said, stepping forward and raising one finger, “you fucking prick, your man hired me, so I shouldn’t have to defend myself to you. Second,” another finger, “sexism is out now, old man. Being a woman doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass. Third, I’d do something about this by making sure your arrogant ass isn’t left without protection from whoever you’re pissing off and keeping you from doing something completely asinine, like getting shot. Oh,” she said, putting her hand down, “you already did that.”

Leonard’s smile was tight and he turned to Mick. “You don’t see a problem with this?”

Mick shrugged, half-heartedly. “You can’t get police protection, not enough of it, not after Lewis. You need someone to watch your back. She works with ‘Maya at Legendary Security and that’s what they do.”

“She’s a child,” Leonard argued.

“Standing right here,” she interrupted.

“I don’t have time to watch out for her, too,” he continued, ignoring her.

“If this is you watching out for yourself, do I have my work cut out for me,” she said from the door.

“You know what,” Leonard said, his temper snapping, “no one asked for you to be here-”

“He did,” she retorted sharply, pointing at Mick. “And if you get your head out of your ass, you absolute pisskidney, you’d see he’s got a fucking point! You’re in the goddamn hospital with a goddamn gunshot. That’s not a great sign that you can handle this.”

Leonard stared at her, mouth agape in amazement at the language, the attitude, and the actual valid points she was presenting. None of that made his temper ebb.

She took a step towards him. “You don’t have to like it, but you’ll pay me a fuckton of money and I’ll keep you out of an early grave. Not only will I watch your arrogant ass, but I’ll make it my personal mission to figure out who is doing this as quickly as possible, so we can both get back to our regularly scheduled lives. You survive, I get paid, and everybody’s happy.”

He closed his mouth, but couldn’t come up with anything to say. She was right, and he hated it, but he really didn’t want to get shot a second time.

“All of this is moot anyway. I’ve already cashed your man’s check, so you’ve got me through Friday as it is. You’ve got questions,” she pulled out a business card and threw it on his bed, “call the number and they’ll fill you in. I’ve got some shit to pick up, and I’ll see you back here at eleven when you get sprung. We’ll talk details then.”

She turned on her heel and headed towards the door, and Leonard found his voice.

“Who do you think you are?”

Facing him with a sarcastic grin, she said, “I’m Sara fucking Lance, your personal protection service. Can’t wait to work with you, Snart.”

With a middle finger extended, she left the room, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Sara waited outside the hospital, flipping her keys over her fingers. She never chose to drive the car, but it only made sense. She couldn’t take the lawyer on her bike. Though, the idea of putting the puffed up pompous ass on the back of her bike made her grin in wicked anticipation, so she shelved that thought for another day.

Rip had explained this assignment with a dark look. “Back on the roster, Lance.”

She couldn’t argue. Legendary Security needed the money. And with Amaya tied up with the historian, and Zari dealing with the engineer, it left Sara to pick up the paycheck for the lawyer.

She had yet to read the full file on him, but she’d heard of him before today. Mr. Leonard Snart was famous among the darker circles for taking down some of Central City’s biggest bads. He’d actually convicted a few of the ones Sara had interactions with, including Damien Darhk. Even Star City had heard of him.

Though he had quite the fan club, there were three death threats he’d received in the past week that were all startlingly similar. Rip had shown her them when he handed over the file. Each contained a scarily close-up photo of Snart, and various scribblings over the top in metallic pen.

> _ Stop or you’ll be sorry. _
> 
> _ Drop the case or lose everything. _
> 
> _ Do you care about your career more than your life? _

Sara frowned. The words had been so distant. Factual. The punctuation was perfect. These weren’t the words of an unhinged individual, but a methodical and analytical mind. These weren’t the usual, half-assed threats. These were promises.

The job itself was interesting, even if she hated the client. He seemed like everything prosecution lawyers tended to be. Ruthless, soulless, heartless machines driven by money or glory. Leonard Snart seemed to fall in the latter category, his successes displayed on every paper in Central City, untouchable criminal after untouchable criminal brought down in his courtroom. He played the jury like a fiddle and the DA for a fool, and had the arrogance to go with it.

Asshole thought he could take on bullets with the stick up his ass.

Sara looked up to see the doors opening. Mick Rory was carrying a bag, while Leonard walked himself towards the parking lot. Sara whistled over to them, ignoring the glare Leonard cast in her direction.

She had to admit, for a jackass, he was handsome. Though he was dwarfed by MIck, he was still significantly taller than her, the closely cut hair not quite hiding the gray that was beginning to show. His eyes were striking, though his sullen glares were wasted on her. She also caught the shadows under his eyes that seemed to be there long before this accident. He was dressed in the clothes he came in with, though the ruined jacket had been replaced with a different one, and the shirt Mick had brought wasn’t fully buttoned, exposing the line of his throat and the top of his collar. She wasn’t one for suits, but she could admit he wore it like it was made for him.

Which, considering his paycheck, it probably was.

She jerked her chin at the black car idling on the sidewalk. Mick glanced between her and Leonard, then followed her silent instructions, heading to the car to put Leonard’s things inside. Leonard stopped in front of her, the pale face not diminishing the scowl.

“I have a car,” he announced.

“Wonderful,” she said, completely ignoring him. “Here’s your new bling.” She handed him a silver bracelet.

“You’re joking.”

“I never joke about work.” She glared at him. “That’ll let me know where you are at all times.”

He put it in his pocket and Sara cocked a brow, intent on finishing that conversation soon. “We’ll take my car and talk about the other rules. So get in.”

“I’m not going anywhere until-”

Footsteps pounded the pavement rapidly behind her. Sara turned, her hand reaching for her hip. The approaching figure was a made-up brunette, her eyes a little too hard as she ran towards Leonard.

“Lenny!” she shouted.

The tone made Sara believe she wasn’t a threat. The tight top and jeans made it clear she wasn’t carrying a weapon. Unless this woman was versed in six forms of unarmed combat, she wasn’t going to be a danger to Sara. Which meant she wasn’t a danger to Leonard.

In the time it had taken her to make these observations, Leonard had taken one step out from behind her.

Sara stepped to the side as the girl ran up, stuttered to a stop just before Leonard. “What happened?” Her hands hovered over his arms, unsure of where to touch him without causing him harm.

“I’m fine. Just a little accident,” he said, his tone far nicer than when he addressed Sara. His face was softer and he automatically leaned slightly over her, protecting her even though he was the one with a gunshot. Something in Sara softened slightly, and she frowned, looking at Leonard again.

“Little accident?” she echoed, looking behind him to Mick. The big guy shrugged, keeping his mouth closed.

“It’s nothing, Lis.” Leonard squeezed one of her hands. “I’m fine.”

She frowned, but nodded. Her eyes caught Sara’s and she cleared her throat. “Sorry. I’m Lisa, Lenny’s sister.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sara said, nodding politely.

Leonard glared at her. “This is my new protection, thanks to Mick.”

“Protection?” Lisa said, stifling a laugh.

Sara’s smile was sharp. “Yup.”

“Well,” Lisa said, looking Sara up and down, “hopefully you know what you’re doing.”

“I do. Speaking of which, we need to go.” She gestured to the car.

Leonard sighed, then turned back to Lisa. “You take the bus here?”

“No, a friend dropped me off on her way to work,” Lisa said.

Taking his keys out of his pocket, he held them in front of Lisa, but didn’t drop them yet. “You’re going to drive Mick home. You get one scratch on it, and I’ll never let you look at it, let alone drive it, again. Clear?” Lisa nodded eagerly, reaching for the keys. Leonard pulled them out of reach and Sara saw how his eyes tightened in pain, but he didn’t let Lisa know. “It better be parked in my spot before 8 AM tomorrow.”

“It will be,” Lisa promised.

Leonard dropped the keys, then got into Sara’s car. She nodded once at Lisa and Mick, then got into the driver’s side and started it up.

Though it wasn’t her bike, Sara did love this car. Bullet proof glass, reinforced chassis, a veritable armory in the trunk, and it drove like a dream. She pulled out of the hospital parking lot, the quiet hum of the tires against pavement the only sound in the car for a couple minutes.

“I don’t need a tracker,” Leonard said suddenly.

Sara didn’t blink. “Fine. Then I’ll be at your side every moment, day and night, until your stalker is caught. Your choice.”

He muttered something under his breath, then said, “If I wear it?”

“I’ll be at your side when you leave your apartment in the morning. I’ll return you there at night. Any lunch meetings that are conducted outside of your place of business, I’m there. If you remain at work after the regular security goes home, I’ll be joining you in your office until you decide to leave. Any place you go other than your place of residence or business, I’ll be there.” These were standard rules for any security job. She’d already had Ray pull the records of every coworker or Snart’s, every neighbor in his building. They were all clean enough. The security at his job passed muster. It meant she’d be spending her days outside of his firm, but it was better than other places she’d had to loiter outside.

“I like my privacy,” Leonard said, his words clipping away from his lips.

“I bet you like being not dead better,” she retorted. “Deal with it.”

He said something that she pretended not to hear, then slid the tracking bracelet onto his wrist. A ping sounded from Sara’s phone as it connected.

“It’s waterproof. If you take it off, I’ll get an immediate alert to my phone, and I’ll be at your last location in minutes, guns fucking blazing. I’ve ruined three birthdays and a romantic evening, already. Don’t take it off.”

He didn’t respond, but he wasn’t stupid enough to test her. She didn’t think.

Sara reached into the glovebox and handed him a slip of paper. “My personal number. If I call, you answer. Otherwise, I assume the worst and-”

“Guns blazing,” he interrupted, eyes on his phone. “So you said.”

“I’ll check in with you periodically throughout the day. A quick text is all I need.”

“I don’t text,” he said, visibly texting next to her.

She bit her lip and ignored that. “You’ll need to get me a copy of all of your most recent case files. We’re looking through them to figure out who might be targeting you.”

“Don’t have any current cases,” he said, in a tone that meant he wouldn’t be doing shit.

“Look, Snart,” she started.

“No, you look,” he interrupted, his voice tight. “I don’t care what Mick says. I don’t need protection. Get what he paid you. You’re going to return it-”

“Nonre-fucking-fundable. And I’m not reneging on a contract.” Despite the fact that she’d love to walk away and let whatever was going to happen, happen.

“I don’t know who you usually work for but-”

“I work for people who are interested in staying fucking alive, Snart!”

“I’m not upending my life because Mick is overprotective.”

“Well, he paid me, so I’ll ask again if you fucking understand-”

He looked at her, those unnervingly calm eyes staring at her through the dim light of the console. “I understand this is a contract. When the money is up, your time is done. When are you paid through?” he asked, the intention obvious.

“Monday through Friday.”

“Fine. Then on Friday, we’ll be saying goodbye.”

“Fucking fine by me, you cockmuppet.”

She parked outside of his complex, then walked him up to his, of course, penthouse suite. He fumbled for the keys, and if he hadn’t been such a fucking prick, maybe she would have helped him. As it was, he got in, then shut the door in her face without another word.

Sara flipped off the door as she heard the deadbolt slid into place, then returned to the car. A different sound from earlier echoed from her phone and she opened the email from Rip to find Leonard’s file.

Turning the radio up, she started skimming through it, wishing it was Friday so she didn’t have to learn anything about this pretentious, arrogant, pain in the ass…

An hour later, Sara dropped the phone onto the passenger’s seat with a sigh and rubbed her eyes. She’d learned quite a bit from the file on Leonard Snart. More than she’d wanted to. She thought about the medical records one last time, then pulled out into the street.

If they kept going the way they were, Leonard wasn’t going to want her help by the end of the week, and he needed it.

Worse, he deserved it.

Despite his knee-jerk reaction to her, she didn’t think it was the fact she was a woman that he had a problem with. Perhaps her age. Maybe she needed to prove that she was necessary and able to handle whatever his groupie dished out.

She had a temper, she knew. He clearly had one, too. But she recalled the list of people he’d put away, and the obvious lengths he would go through to get a rightful conviction, the people he’d refused to represent, the way he looked at his little sister…

Maybe...just maybe, they’d gotten off on the wrong foot.

Sara Lance had never lost a client. In any way. She wasn’t about to start now. If her usual methods didn’t work, she’d have to adjust. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, Sara made a silent promise to try a different tactic tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. I meant to have this out within a week, but this is a little more challenging than some of my previous works.  
> I suck at writing suspense/intrigue, but I'm doing my best.  
> Enjoy!

Leonard cursed through his teeth as his wound pulled for the third time that morning. Dropping his hand, he gave up on grabbing the coffee mug from the top shelf, deciding to stop for coffee instead. He usually only bought coffee on Fridays, but he was going to make an exception this Monday. He checked his shirt, relieved that he hadn’t bled through again. Grabbing his coat in one hand and his briefcase in the other, he glared at the flash of silver at his wrist.

Sara Lance had dropped him off last night like a toddler at a playdate. She walked him to his door as if he were completely incapable of caring for himself. Granted, his current situation tended to suggest that, but it was one incident in a ten-year career. He hated being seen as weak, and to have someone like Sara Lance assigned to protect him-

Leonard shook his head and headed out. His door locked automatically behind him, the deadbolt sliding into place with a metallic whirr. Just because this was the first time he’d actually been hurt, it didn’t mean it was the first time he’d thought of taking precautions.

Though he didn’t usually take the elevator, he indulged himself in the laziness for once. The floors ticked down from seven, then opened on the lobby. With a nod to his doorman, Peter, he stepped out the open door and nearly walked right into a short blonde.

“Excuse me, I-” his automatic apology broke off when Sara grinned up at him. “Dammit, I thought-”

“That I’d forget?” She shrugged, clothed in much the same she'd been in yesterday. “Sorry to disappoint. Coffee?” She held out a tall cup. Behind her shoulder, he could see her motorcycle parked.

He took it hesitantly, his frown decidedly in place. “What’s this for?”

“I stopped for my own. Made a guess that you like it black, cause you seem fucking straightlaced like that.” Her gaze was teasing, none of the anger or judgment she’d had yesterday. When he just took a silent sip, she nodded. “Thought so. Don’t get used to it. I was running late, otherwise you’re getting your own damn coffee. You aren’t paying me the big bucks to do your Starbucks runs.”

“I’m not paying you anything.”

“You wouldn’t want Mick’s money to go to waste then, would you?” She jerked her head to the street. “Let’s go. Don’t wanna be late.”

Leonard fell into step beside her, heading towards the sidewalk. Sara didn’t seem to be surprised that he walked to work, but he supposed it was all compiled into some sort of file on him.

“How’d you sleep?” she asked, sipping her drink.

He wasn’t about to tell her he’d split his wound three times during the night. Twice he thought he’d heard gunshots in his room and once, the sound of someone coming in through his door. All of them had been nothing more than an overactive imagination, but he’d spent more time dressing his wound than actually sleeping.

“Fine,” he said, taking another sip of his coffee. “Were you waiting long?”

“Nope. Why, planning on ducking out earlier tomorrow?” she said, arching a brow.

He’d considered it. “Not anymore.”

She laughed, tipping her cup back and, in the process, taking a step nearer to him and forcing him closer to the buildings, away from the sidewalk. Leonard was about to call her out on not being able to drink and walk, when a man in the car on the edge of the sidewalk swung the passenger door open without looking. It would have opened right into Sara, and he would have been face to face with whoever was in there. This way, Sara stayed between them.

Leonard frowned, drinking his coffee and using it as an excuse to watch his...bodyguard a little closer. Sara had taken the outside of the sidewalk, putting her next to cars and the street. Though she disguised it with drinking her coffee and tossing her hair to the side, her eyes were constantly moving, checking the people around, above, behind them without ever appearing to. She watched cars and put herself between Leonard and them, as people approached, he watched the way she scanned them each before moving on, categorizing them in some way only she understood.

“How did you end up as a bodyguard?” he asked, suddenly curious as to how this short, bad-tempered blonde got into something like taking care of other people. Besides, if she could try to be civil, so could he. It would make the week go by faster.

She didn’t look up at him, “My dad was a cop. Then he got political and we traveled around for a while. Lived on a bunch of different military bases. Always around guns, security, and pisspoor excuses for soldiers. When I was old enough, I trained with the Israeli Defense Force. Did some border patrol in Jordan Valley with badass women. After that, I joined the private sector abroad.” Something about the way she said it made him think it wasn’t quite above board, but he didn’t comment. “When I quit that, I came back here and kind of fell into the Legends.”

“And you’ve had experience in something like this before?”

“Stalkers?” She looked up at him then. “Yeah. A couple of runs of that. Also a little P.I. fieldwork tracking down people. I’ve served as personal protection. That’s why my boss chose me for this job. Uniquely qualified.”

“Stalkers aren’t exactly anything new to you.”

“Yours is.”

“How?” He knew why he thought so, having seen several levels of scumbags before, but he wanted to gauge her response, her skills.

Sara took another long sip from her cup, eyeing a man over the rim until he crossed the street away from them. They were walking up to his building, but Leonard slowed his steps slightly, waiting for her response.

“The stalkers I’ve met are fucked up. Obsessive. Off kilter. They get caught because of that obsession.” She stopped, looking up at his building. Leonard turned to face her, watching her expression as she eyed him, searching him for something. “Your guy doesn’t seem the type to mess up. His letters are careful. The attack was planned. This isn’t usual behavior, and usual methods won’t work.”

“How do you see this turning out?” he asked, finding himself, annoyingly, in agreement with her.

She stared at him, nodding a little to herself before she answered. “He’s careful. I don’t think we’ll find him before he attacks again. He’s out to get you, and even though he’s made damn sure you know he’s coming, we’ve got nothing on him. He’s good.” She looked past him, then back to meet his eye. “It’s gonna be you or him.”

Leonard looked at her for a moment, then down at his watch. She hadn’t lied to him. She hadn’t tried to placate him with hollow words that he knew were wrong. He appreciated that. He still didn’t want the protection, but he was beginning to understand why she’d been chosen.

Sara seemed to know the conversation was over. She nodded towards the building. “See you later.”

Leonard didn’t bother to say goodbye, but turned and walked towards the firm, the weight of a blue gaze on his back the entire way.

* * *

Though he hadn’t missed any working days due to his incident, Leonard still felt like he’d fallen behind. He usually worked ten to twelve hours every day, regardless of weekends or not. So he worked straight through the morning and well into the afternoon before the caffeine headache began to start. Needing an extra jolt than what the ancient office coffee maker could provide, and wanting to get out of the building for at least a few minutes, he grabbed his coat and wallet and headed to the elevators.

Despite being back on his feet, he wasn’t nearly as observant as he should have been. Leonard had to stifle a sigh as a young brunette jumped up from her seat and joined him in the elevator.

Stacy wasn’t the first intern to have a crush on him, but she was one of the more annoyingly persistent. Always cautious never to put himself in a situation where someone could get any sort of leverage over him, Leonard had always avoided being alone with the younger interns, just in case.

He’d seen firsthand how bloodthirsty his coworkers could be, and wouldn’t put it past some of them to use it to their advantage.

However, Stacy dogged him like no one before. She was always conveniently walking past his office when he looked up, passing him on the way to the restroom, walking into work at the same time, leaving at the same time, she’d even appeared at a few of his coffee haunts. She was cute enough, but it was becoming tiresome. He’d explained before that he wasn’t interested, trying to be polite, but that only seemed to incite her to try harder.

In fact, had it not been for her inane conversation and inability to get through one docket with a grammatical error, Leonard might have pegged her for his stalker.

“Coffee, Mr. Snart?” she asked. She didn’t wait for his answer, but continued. “Me too. I’ve been working my way through some of your old cases, and they are just riveting.” She stood closely to him on the elevator, never minding that there was more than enough room to stand several feet apart.

He didn’t respond, but took out his phone, scrolling through the new emails. Ignoring Stacy never made her leave, but at least he could get more work done.

“I heard you were in an accident over the weekend. If you need anything, I’m available any time, day or night. I can give you my personal number-”

The doors dinged open and Leonard stepped through, Stacy hot on his heels. “You know, I don’t live far from here. I can make you something nice and hot, and it’ll all be on-”

“About time, thought you forgot.”

Leonard looked up, seeing Sara standing in their path. He was at a loss as to what she was referring to. He’d answered her texts on the hour, after the second, more dangerously worded requests. Frowning slightly, he opened his mouth to respond, but Sara cut in.

“I wasn’t sure if we were meeting here or the coffeeshop to go over the case.” Her eyes never once wandered to Stacy.

He almost smiled at her cleverness, but smothered it. Stacy, unsurprisingly, spoke up.

“Who are you?”

Only now did Sara look at her, somehow looking down despite the fact they were the same height. “A client. Who the fuck are you?”

Stacy bristled, her eyes shocked at Sara’s language. “Excuse you, I’m Mr. Snart’s-”

“She’s an intern,” Leonard cut in. “Who has work to do somewhere else.”

“But, Mr. Snart, I thought we were going-”

“Nowhere,” he finished firmly.

She gaped up at him, her eyes darting between him and Sara before she crossed her arms, the artfully unbuttoned blouse straining. Sara winked at her and she flushed in anger, but didn’t try to speak again.

Leonard started walking, ignoring Stacy as Sara fell into place beside him. Once they were far enough away, he glanced back, relieved that Stacy had gone back inside.

“So,” Sara said dryly, “she seems nice.”

He couldn’t help his scoff of laughter, and shook his head. “I think this is the first time I’ve been able to go out alone for coffee in months. Well,” he waved his hand at Sara, acknowledging the falsity of that.

She grinned at him, not disagreeing. “I’m not hearing a thank you, prosecutor.”

“And you won’t.”

“Aw, what’s the matter? Rough day at the office?” she said, grinning, her eyes darting around the sidewalk.

“Something like that,” he agreed, glancing at her.

Sara nodded, “So is this coffeeshop a place you go often?”

“No. Never go on Mondays, and I usually go to the one up the street. Farther away, so Stacy usually had to leave before long.”

“Clever,” she said, still watching the crowd. “Your fan’s pictures came from that one, so we’ll avoid it until he’s caught.”

“He knows where I live. You really think avoiding coffee is going to stop him?” Leonard asked quietly.

“Nope. But let’s not make more problems.” She got to the shop’s door and opened it for him.

Leonard stepped in, getting in the short line. When they got up to the counter, he said, “Large black coffee and a shot of espresso. And,” he gestured to Sara, “whatever she’s having.” He refused to acknowledge her grin and merely said, “We’re even.”

She didn’t stop smiling.

* * *

It was well after lunch before Leonard left the building again to grab his. Usually he worked through lunch and just had a snack, but the wound was pulling and the weakness wasn’t helping him continue working.

He brought his most irritating file with him - maybe food would help him crack this - and intended to go to the small Indian restaurant. Three steps out and his face buried in the files, he was barely paying attention.

“Buying me lunch, now?” a voice said in his ear.

“Jesus-!” Leonard hated to admit that he flinched, a few of the papers dropping out of the folder. Sara snatched them before they hit the ground, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he got his breath under control.

“For someone who thinks they don’t need my help, you’re pretty oblivious,” she observed, glancing over the papers she held.

Leonard grabbed them out of her hands. “You do realize I spend most of my time around people who kill and murder for a living. I know how to get rid of a body.”

Her smile was even larger this time. “Me too. So where are we going for lunch?”

“Indian. That alright with you?”

“I’m more of a Thai girl, myself.”

“I wasn’t actually sincere when I asked.” He looked back at the file, something sparking in his mind.

Sara grabbed his wrist and tugged him out of the way of a pedestrian. Leonard resisted the urge to wrench his hand away, the callouses on her fingers catching the scars on his wrist and arm.

She dropped her hand nonetheless, not making a comment on it.

Tucking the file under his arm, he continued down the sidewalk, eyes up, unsurprised when Sara fell into step with him.

“Indian it is, then,” she said, her smile and tone completely agreeable.

“I hate you.”

She just laughed, but made no move to touch him again.

* * *

Over Indian food, Leonard watched Sara scroll through her phone without ever actually looking at it, keeping her eyes on the crowd. “What do you do all day?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“This and that. Consultation in my spare time. Precincts email me with some issues and I advise. Some diplomatic security stuff. Nothing too exciting.” She put the phone down and leaned back, the corner table she’d asked for giving her a great view of the room.

Leonard cut off another piece of chicken and chewed slowly, watching Sara. Her eyes scanned the room again, that grin on her face.

“Why do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“That constant watching over your shoulder.”

Her brow arched and she leaned forward. “Kind of the job.”

He didn’t buy that and said so.

“How do you feel, about all this?” she asked.

She wasn’t asking about lunch. “Lance-”

“Humor me, jackass.”

He set his knife and fork down, and met her eyes. “I hate it,” he said honestly. “I hate not having privacy. I hate being watched. I hate not knowing what’s going to happen.”

Sara nodded, completely unsurprised by his answer. “I spent a lot of time, living like that. So I learned how to spot them first. The fuckers who’d hurt me or take advantage of me. I learned how to be the one in command of every situation. Spotting the threats, the exits, potential dangers. I learned how to use anything as a weapon, how to read people. I keep control. Because the alternative isn’t something I’m gonna allow again.”

“If this is you in control, I’m not sure I can handle out of it.”

“Oh, you absolutely can’t, Snart.”

He almost smiled, but settled for a nod instead. As the waiter came by, Sara grabbed the check and threw a credit card down. “I got this one.”

Leonard drank his water and eyed her over the glass, recognizing the faint and all too inconvenient feelings of respect coming forward for Sara Lance.

Dammit. 

* * *

Sara stood up from the old bench she’d spent most of her day on, stretching out limbs that ached with disuse. She knew Snart was a pain in the ass, but she hadn’t anticipated that being literal.

The sun had set several hours ago, the last stragglers of the building heading out some time ago, and still no sign of Snart. She’d checked the tracker, he was still inside and answering her hourly check-ins, so she had no excuse to go in other than boredom. And since she was trying to play nice…

She sighed, pacing around the front of the building. The nice thing about being in this district was the people-watching. Made her job more challenging, but at least it kept her busy.

The door opened behind her and Sara turned, seeing Leonard finally exit the building. He noticed her with sunken in eyes. “You still here to tell me that you’ve caught my fan, and you’ll be on your way?”

“If only,” she answered easily, getting into step with him. She appreciated that he walked - it allowed her to get some exercise in.

He sighed, “Damn.”

They were comfortably silent on the way back to his apartment. The passed the parking garage again and headed up to his penthouse suite, the elevator ride completely silent.

“Well,” Leonard said, stopping outside his door and exhaustion lacing his voice in a way that wasn’t there a few hours ago, “this has been thrilling. Looking forward to tomorrow.”

“Same,” she said, knowing he wasn’t going to like what was coming next. “But it isn’t goodbye just yet. I have to check your place.”

“No.”

Sara merely smiled, and waited. Just as she had been all day, tense and ready. Leonard stared at her for a long moment, then exhaled slowly, pinching his brow.

She stepped aside as Leonard unlocked the door, knocking into a cardboard box as it opened.

Sara grabbed the handle and slammed it closed again.

“Lance, what the-”

“Was that there this morning?”

Leonard stared at her, the obvious exhaustion rolling across his face as he tried to think. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Who has a key to your place?” she asked, her left hand on the door and the right on her holster.

“The doorman, Mick, Lisa - Lance, it’s a delivery,” he argued. “I’ll make sure they leave them downstairs from now on. Enough.”

“Leonard-”

“No.” He stepped in front of the door. “No. You’ve made your point. It’s been a long couple of days. I just want to go in and go to bed. Enough.”

“Leonard, fuck, I’m trying here, but my job is to keep you alive, can you do me the fucking favor of letting me try?” Sara said, trying to control her temper as best she could.

He cursed under his breath and stepped back, leaving the key in the door. “Five minutes. And I’m walking myself to work.”

Sara stepped in, eyes casting over every perfect, immaculate surface, the baby grand piano in the corner of the open living room, the full decanters of what looked like top shelf alcohol, the empty bedroom and guest room, and balcony, devoid of everything but a small patio set. The box contained nothing more than a piece for his piano. She finally returned to the living room, where Leonard was placing his briefcase on his desk.

She said, “I appreciate the thought, but I’m walking you tomorrow. Job means-”

He slammed his hands down on the table, “Lance, this job has been blown way out of proportion. I don’t need protection. I don’t need a babysitter. I don’t need you.”

“Will you stop being such a fucking stubborn ass and look around? You got fucking shot, this is-”

Leonard snapped, “I’m well aware of what happened. I don’t need you to treat me like a child.”

“Then stop acting like a fucking child, and let me do my job!”

“I don’t need your help, sweetheart! I’ve been looking out for myself and Lisa since before you were born!”

Sara inhaled sharply, then stepped away, dropping her arms to her sides and forcibly relaxing her shoulders. He was right. He was. Shouting at him wasn’t going to convince him. But he had to be convinced, because as much as she hated him sometimes, she was starting to like this dry-humored, sarcastic, workaholic. She was silent for a minute, staring out the picturesque view, before she turned around.

“Okay, look. First, call me sweetheart ever again and I will dick-punch you so hard you’ll throw up for three days. Not a joke.”

He rolled his eyes, either in humor or exasperation, she couldn’t tell, then he slumped on the white leather couch, rubbing his eyes.

Sara followed him, sitting on the coffee table in front of him. “Second, I get it. I do. This whole thing fucking sucks and the last thing you want is me coming in here and messing with your shit. But I need you to see this from my perspective, okay?”

“Lance-“

“Just...let me try to explain it. If you don’t want my help afterwards, fine. We’ll do it your way. But if you do, we’ll try to do this thing right, okay? I’ll do my best to stay out of your shit and you meet me halfway.”

It was clear he didn’t think she could say anything that could convince him. “Fine.”

“Okay.” She dropped her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to organize her thoughts. “There was this barista, Kendra. She was being stalked. A shady motherfucker, named Vandal fucking Savage, who’d traced her across the country. She went through everything with the police, just like she should have. Everything by the book. She took precautions. She wasn’t stupid. Didn’t take risks. A few years went by and she thought she’d gotten rid of him.”

Sara looked down at her hands, knowing that they’d usually be shaking. She kept her focus on her hands, trying to keep her voice detached. “She met a guy. Carter. Nice enough. Kind of a douche, but he made her happy. They moved in together. They were happy,” she repeated, as if that would change the way she knew it ended.

“Lance-” Leonard started, shaking his head.

She ignored him. “Savage found them and followed Carter back to their place one night.” She swallowed, “When Kendra got home, Carter was already dead, in their bedroom, in pieces. And above the bed, in Carter’s fucking blood, Savage had written her a love letter. That they were soulmates. That he was doing this for her.” Sara watched her hands clench. “My first job at Legendary Security was taking care of Kendra after that. I caught Savage and made sure he wouldn’t hurt her again, but I couldn’t fix what he’d already done to her. I couldn’t change what happened.”

She looked up at him, needing him to understand. “It’s horrible, what he did. But the thing is, he didn’t think so. Not for one second. There are bad people, and there are fucking monsters. You handle bad people all day, eyes shut, and that’s amazing, honestly. I know you’re good at it. But the guy after you is a monster. And I need you to realize I’m not here because you’re fucking incapable or weak or whatever other nonsense you think. I’m here because he’s a monster, capable of truly terrible fucking things, and taking down monsters is what I do.”

She stopped, her hands loose on her lap and her head dropping down. Leonard didn’t say anything for a long, long moment, and she prayed she’d gotten through to him. Because lawyers might deserve a lot of things. No one deserved monsters.

He got up suddenly, startling Sara as he strode into the kitchen. He grabbed the counter, hunching over it. She saw his back shudder and red started to seep through his shirt.

“Fuck, Leonard-,” Sara stood, walking towards him. She would’ve said more, but he was pale, his teeth clenched, and his breath coming too quickly. She recognized a panic attack. “First aid?”

He jerked his chin to the side, and she found a bag of stuff from the hospital, with gauze and tape. Grabbing it, she turned back to him.

“Come on, old man,” she said, grabbing his shoulder. “Turn around. Let me see.”

He allowed her to push him to face her, his fingers shaking as he unbuttoned his shirt. Sara kept talking, narrating everything and keeping her voice calm.

“You’ve bled through, so I’ve gotta rewrap it. You’re running low on gauze. I can bring some tomorrow. Shit, didn’t expect a fucking lawyer to have abs. When the hell do you find time to work out? Just breathe. It’s gonna be fine. You’ve been such a prick, I wondered if you were human at all, and now’s the time you decide to prove me wrong, huh? What a great first fucking day.”

His breath started to even out, calming as she finished taping up the bandage.

She didn’t speak again until he was cleaned up and she stepped away. “It’s okay, Snart.”

He leaned against the counter, bloodied bandages next to him, eyes sunken in as he stared at her, and Sara felt her heart go out to this arrogant, cold, fiercely independent man.

“It isn’t okay,” he said quietly, the first admission he’d ever given her. The first real moment of fear. It shook Sara to see him looking nearly broken, and she couldn’t stop herself from doing what she did next.

She reached out and squeezed his hand, her thumb running over the white knuckles; he didn’t pull away from her like he had earlier. “You’re right. It’s not. It’s totally fucked,” she said, smiling. She squeezed a little tighter and stepped in. “But I’m here, and they’re not gonna touch you. You need me, just say the word and I’m there, guns fucking blazing. Anytime. You’re safe. I’m gonna keep you safe. Promise.”


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days, Leonard discovered quite a bit about Sara Lance. Every little piece of information he got, he filed away in the increasingly complicated and interesting pocket of his mind. Some things were small notes - she hated having her hair pulled up, even when it was more convenient. She loved her leather jacket more than most people loved their children. Other things were funny inconsistencies with her rough and tumble attitude. She wore thick, colorful socks beneath her boots. She couldn’t handle spicy foods. She loved saying things that shocked people, be it by her language or blunt statements. She preferred whiskey to every other liquor. Likes, dislikes, easy enough to figure.

Then there were those other things he noticed. In the dive Greek restaurant they went for lunch on Wednesday, she noticed bruises on their waitress’s arm, and pulled her aside, speaking in low tone for a few moments. She checked his mail with an annoying attention to detail. He noticed how when she got tired, her voice became rougher, and started to get a little bit of an accent, maybe Middle Eastern?

He noticed that she would touch him a little more - a hand at his back or his shoulder, brushing his hand when she took his bag from him so he could unlock the door to his house. It didn’t bother him, not really, but he was so unused to it that it startled him every time. She never made a comment, merely smiled and kept going.

He noticed that when she smiled, the lines at the corner of her eyes deepened, erasing some of the years that seemed so conflicting on her face.

He noticed more than he probably should.

* * *

It was Thursday afternoon, just after lunch, when Sara and Leonard were walking back to the office.

Sara’s mouth was still on fire - when she asked for mild, she’d really meant not at all spicy. Leonard had laughed at her, ordering her something called a mango lassi to quell the flames, but the smile remained. She’d chugged it, and though it helped, the residual burn was still there, making her cheeks flush.

“Brought down by lamb vindaloo,” Leonard drawled, that same rare smile on his lips. “Who would’ve thought?”

“You can’t stab spicy,” Sara argued, unable to help her smile in response.

“Well, tomorrow, we’ll do southern Indian. You want spice-” His phone rang, not for the first time this lunch hour, and he pulled it out to look at the screen. Most of the calls he’d let go to voicemail, but Sara caught Lisa’s name as he accepted this one and raised it to his ear.

“Hello?”

Sara tucked her hands into her pockets, the chill of the fall air beginning to settle in. Leonard stopped, a frown appearing between his eyes. She stopped as well, not wanting to intrude, but knowing she had no choice.

“When did it happen?” he asked, looking past her. “Right. No, I’ll handle the arrangements. Yeah. I know. I’ll call you tomorrow with the details. Bye.”

He hung up, his phone sliding back into his pocket before he cleared his throat.

“Everything okay?” Sara asked, already knowing it wasn’t from his blank expression.

“My father died in Iron Heights this morning. Heart attack.” His voice was detached. “I have to make the arrangements for the funeral.”

Sara reached out to him. “Fuck, Leonard, I-”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, stepping away from her hand. “It’ll mean a late night here, though. I want it done as soon as possible.” He looked around the relatively barren sidewalk. “I know this isn’t exactly thrilling, so-”

“Don’t worry about me. Just...if you need anything…” she trailed off, unsure of what else she could possibly say.

“Thanks.” He headed into the building, his head bowed as he entered, completely ignoring the greetings of the security guard.

As soon as he was out of sight, Sara pulled out her phone and dialed a number she really should have in her speeddial.

A polite, charmingly accented voice answered.  _ “Legendary Security, this is Gideon, how may I direct-” _

“It’s me.”

The polite tone dropped slightly,  _ “Ms. Lance, Rip expected a report yesterday.” _

“Yeah, well, Rip can get off his flat ass and-”

_ “Was there something you wanted?” _ Gideon interrupted.

“Yeah. My client’s father just died. I wanna make sure it wasn’t something more.”

_ “This would be Leonard Snart?” _ Gideon said, the clicks of her keyboard audible through the phone.

“Yeah. Father’s Lewis Snart, incarcerated six years ago at Iron Heights,” Sara leaned against the bench, her eyes darting over the crowds. She saw a familiar face, one that she’d expected to see earlier and started moving towards it. “Call me when you get something.”

_ “Will do, and, as always, a pleasure to-” _

Sara hung up, jogging to intercept the large man. “Mick.”

He turned, looking down at her from his impressive height. “Blondie.”

“Sara.”

“Don’t care.” Despite that, he stopped. “How’s it going with Snart?”

“He’s a pain in the ass, fucking straightlaced, but I’ve got his back.”

Mick chuckled. “That first night, I think he called you a sarcastic midget of curses and poor life choices.”

Sara laughed aloud at that. “He wasn’t wrong.”

“Any news on Snart’s fan?” Mick asked.

“Not yet.” She didn’t mention anything about his father; that wasn’t her news to tell.

“I know he’s a shit, but he doesn’t deserve all this,” Mick said quietly.

“I’ll keep him safe, Mick. Promise.”

He huffed, losing the sincerity. “Don’t tell me you actually like the asshole?”

“You know, I kind of do,” Sara said, grinning. “How’s Amaya?”

“Busy. We’re meeting for drinks next week.” He stretched. “Anyway, gotta get back to work. Enjoy your loitering, or whatever.”

Sara waved him off and returned to her bench. A message came in from Gideon a few moments later.

_ Lewis Snart’s autopsy revealed nothing more than he was a heavy smoker with a poor diet. All natural causes of death. No red flags. _

She was almost disappointed, not that she’d ever say it aloud. Still, this was a different sort of issue and she wasn’t sure Leonard was going to let her help. The idea of not helping made her stomach twist a little guiltily. Shaking her head free, she continued to scan faces, focusing on the job. Because this was all just a job.

Just a job.

* * *

Leonard hung up the phone, his eyes starting to swim from exhaustion. Though he hadn’t opened up his wound since Monday, it didn’t mean he was healed, and everything else on top of it was just...overwhelming.

He rubbed his temples, everything in order for the funeral on Saturday. The call from Lisa hadn’t exactly been a surprise, but he hadn’t anticipated it this week.

There was no lost love between him and his father, not since their last visit. But he owed it to Lisa to give him a proper funeral. If only for Lisa.

Looking at the clock, he cursed, it was well past nine. Not that he felt guilty, but he did. He bent down, grabbing his bag from beneath his desk so he could get back downstairs to Sara and at least let her get some sleep before their early morning. He’d treat her to lunch tomorrow, though it was her turn. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out for lunch everyday in a week, but the chance to relax was something he didn’t usually go for. The conversations with Sara were stimulating, and he almost forgot that she’d been hired to spend time with him.

No, to protect him.

A strange thought occurred to him, what would Sara be doing if she weren’t working for him? Did she go out for drinks with friends? Dancing? Did she have a significant other? A sharp, strange sensation began in his ribs when he thought of the idea of Sara going home to someone, but he ignored it, straightening and heading to his door to lock it.

As he put the key in the lock, he heard a creak of the floor behind him.

Even with the exhaustion, his mind was sharp and jumped to the obvious thoughts. It was late. No one else should be here.

No one.

Leonard twisted as a hand grazed his arm, his right hand immediately going up defensively. Sara caught his arm easily, but her brows rose in surprise.

“Not bad, old man. You got some moves.” She smiled tentatively. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” he said, picking up his bag.

She smirked. “Uhuh. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

They walked back to his place, both of them quiet and lost in their own thoughts. Sara didn’t speak until they reached the parking garage.

“Snart,” she said, “I know I’m cramping your style and all, but if you need to go out and get shitfaced with your friends, I can make that happen. If that’s what you need.”

“I’m fine. Not exactly my kind of scene.”

They reached the elevator bank and Sara pressed the button without asking him. They usually took the stairs, but he was too exhausted to even think about climbing all those flights.

“What is your kind of scene?” she asked. “Do you go out with Mick or anything?”

He shrugged as the light dinged on. “Not really. Busy with work.”

“Life is more than work.” They stepping into the elevator and the doors shut behind them.

Leonard watched the numbers light up near the ceiling. “And you, Lance? If you weren’t working, where would you be?”

“Going out and getting shitfaced with friends,” she retorted immediately.

He almost smiled. “Really.”

She lifted one shoulder, a faint smirk on her face. “No. Not really. Used to. My sister and I used to tear up Star City. But after Laurel died, it kind of killed my partying mood. I’ve got Amaya and Zari with the Legends. And Gideon. But I’m not really one for lots of friends.” Her voice was calm, but Leonard knew her well enough to hear the careful carelessness of the words. Overly careful.

“I didn’t know. Older or younger?”

“Older.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Leonard got to his door, unlocking it and stepping aside as Sara went in first, the routine now second nature. She checked all the rooms, then met him back in the living room. Leonard stood at his desk, a pile of papers in front of him, mocking his silence.

“Alright. See you bright and early,” Sara said, giving him a half-hearted salute.

“Wait,” he said, the word dragged out of him before he could reconsider it for the eighth time.

She immediately stopped, one word from him and he had her undivided, and significant, attention.

“These are for you.” He put his hand on top of the papers that had been slowly accumulating over the week. First it was a pretense, in case she asked, then it became habit, to make extra copies. Then they sat on his desk, waiting for him to get over his arrogance.

She arched a brow and approached, opening up the first folder, skimming over the first few pages. “Case files?” she asked.

He turned away, grabbing a small envelope from his bag. “Obviously. And this.” He put it on top of the folders and opened up his bag, pulling out the work he’d brought home.

“What is it?” she asked, holding up the envelope.

Leonard didn’t look up. “A check. Continuation of services.”

She grinned, shoving it into her pocket. “I knew you liked me.”

He shook his head, unable to keep the corner of his mouth from tilting up. “I like being not dead.”

“Tomato, potato.”

“That’s for two weeks,” he added. “If you catch him before then, I want a refund.”

“We’ll see about that,” she laughed, grabbing the files under one arm.

She was almost to the door when he spoke one last time.

“The funeral is on Saturday. You don’t need to-”

Sara turned. “I do need to. But even if I didn’t, I’d be there, Len.” She winked at him, waving her free hand. “See you in the morning. Lock up behind me.”

“Always do,” he said, trailing behind her.

Sara grinned. “Hey, gotta keep reminding you, old man.”

He rolled his eyes, locking the door behind her, and speaking loudly enough that she heard through the wood. “You’re a pain, sweetheart.”

The surprised laughter echoed through the door, and Leonard listened to it fade, a smile on his face.

* * *

Saturday dawned cold and grey, as was appropriate.

Leonard took care in selecting his suit. He had to look the part of mourning son, if only for Lisa’s benefit. As he buttoned up the shirt, he caught a glimpse of the white marks on his chest in the mirror. The black fabric made them disappear, only three people knew they were there.

Now, only two.

His phone buzzed, with a text from Sara saying she was five minutes out. Leonard went without the briefcase this time, taking a messenger bag with the documents for the funeral home and paperwork to deal with the death certificate. Another quick glance in the mirror assured him he looked the part.

He unnecessarily straightened the tie, then went downstairs, on the last flight as Sara texted she was here. He pushed through the door, recognising the car at the sidewalk as the one she’d driven him home in that first night.

“Hey.”

He turned, his greeting never making it past his lips. Gone were the jeans and boots, replaced with a modestly tight black dress and black heels. Gone even was the leather jacket, replaced with a nicer coat. But most surprisingly, gone was the loose hair. Instead, the blonde locks were pulled back up into a simple bun at the base of her neck.

Leonard cleared his throat. “You clean up nice.”

She gave him a faint smile, “Was that a compliment?”

“An observation,” he corrected.

She grinned, “Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” She opened the passenger door for him, shutting it and walking around to the driver’s seat. She checked the street, then pulled out onto the road as Leonard stared out the window.

Today would be rough only in that he was worried about Lisa and potentially some of the other guests. But he didn’t care that his father was dead. He’d been dead to him since he was put behind bars. The one and only case Leonard had ever lost as a defense attorney, before he switched to prosecution. No one blamed him, his father had been guilty, but it was the one case he’d lost.

If he could even call it that.

Sara cleared her throat, clearly wanting his attention. He turned back to her, catching her gaze as it darted towards him, then back to the street.

“I know you’re gonna hate hearing this, but it’s gotta be said. Obviously, this isn’t something we can skip, but I’d really rather we fucking could, ‘cause this whole thing smells like a setup. Open area, no security, no checking of persons or weapons prior to approach. Kind of my fucking nightmare. Could just be my paranoia, but…” she shrugged, glancing at Leonard. “I’m gonna need you to stay by my side the whole time. If I say stop, you stop. If I say run, you fucking book it. Understand?”

Leonard looked at Sara again, ignoring the drastic change in appearance and noticed a few new things. The lines at her mouth, the tight grip on the steering wheel, the gun under her coat.

“Understood,” he said quietly, looking back at the road.

He caught her nod at the edge of his vision, but her gaze continued to stray back.

“What, Lance?” he eventually sighed.

“Lisa. Does she know?” she asked quietly.

“I haven’t said anything about the stalker, but she knows that you’re protection-”

“No. Sorry. I meant, does she know what your dad did to you?”

He didn’t ask her what she meant. Didn’t even ask how she knew. Both answers were too obvious - the file on him, the scars she saw that first night.

He stared straight ahead. “I don’t know. We’ve never discussed it. I’ve never asked.”

“Why?” Sara asked him, glancing over as they slowed to a stop at a red light.

“Lisa worshiped our father,” he said, consciously keeping his hands relaxed. “If I tell her and she didn’t know, I would take away something precious to her. If I tell her, and she already knows…” Leonard trailed off.

Sara exhaled quietly. “Right. Fuck.”

“Indeed.”

* * *

Lewis Snart, for the low-level motherfucker he was, seemed to have garnered an interesting group of mourners.

Lisa and Mick were obvious. Low tiered members of some of the local gangs, not entirely surprising. The cops were a twist. But the fucking cherry on Sara’s day was the sight of Hector Hammond.

Hector fucking Hammond.

Mastermind. Brilliant but psychotic and discredited scientist. Current head of the Royal Flush Gang. Fucking sociopath.

Sara kept her eyes on Hammond and his cronies, who were the only ones obviously carrying. Keeping close to Leonard’s side, she angled herself to stay between Leonard and Hammond as they approached the plot.

“What the fuck did Hammond have in common with your dad?” she hissed at Leonard.

Leonard didn’t flinch as he looked up and met Hammond’s cold eyes. “Me.”

Sara didn’t get a chance to ask anything else as they got to Lewis’s gravesite. Everyone was sporting appropriate mourning attire, even Mick had found a dark suit. The priest was at the headstone, talking quietly with Lisa. Sara noted her red-rimmed eyes and tried to remind herself that whatever piece of shit Lewis was, he’d been Lisa and Leonard’s father.

Leonard stood near the head of Lewis’s plot, Sara at his shoulder. She kept her head on a swivel, looking at every newcomer who approached to express their condolences to Leonard. Her skin started to itch - too many were armed, too many were dangerous. She couldn’t protect Leonard here. Not effectively. They had to leave-

“My father,” Lisa began, creating a hush over the crowd, “was a strong, opinionated man. He didn’t get along with everyone. But those who mattered knew him.” She nodded at the crowd, cops and crooks both returning the gesture. “He was the best man I’ve ever known.”

Only because Sara was still looking around at the crowd did she see Leonard’s jaw jump slightly.

Sara listened with half an ear as Lisa continued to discuss the imagined good qualities about her father. She seemed completely honest though, and Sara wondered what it was like to be that ignorant about someone, especially someone like Lewis Snart.

Though, to be fair, people were that ignorant about her, too.

Sara caught the gaze of Hammond from across the grave. He looked her up and down, marking the gun at her hip and missing the knife at her thigh. Hammond slowly lifted his eyes back up to hers and winked.

It took everything in her not to flip him off. A warm hand pressed against her back and Sara glanced down to see Leonard’s arm reaching around her, casually demonstrating a connection. He didn’t look at her, but it was the first conscious gesture he’d made towards her.

Hammond’s eyes darted to Leonard, but he was staring up at his sister.

Lisa seemed to be wrapping up, “Dad always said that when you back someone into a corner, when you take away their safety nets, they’ll show you who you really are. He showed that he would do whatever it takes.”

Leonard’s scoff was so quiet, Sara almost missed it, but the echo passed through his hand and against her back.

“I’ll miss him,” Lisa choked, stepping away from the headstone and back to Leonard. She reached out to him and Leonard immediately extended his hand to her. “You wanna say something?” she asked.

It was clear he wanted to say no, and Sara would have given anything to keep him from having to speak for his father, but Lisa’s face was pleading, the insistence driven by the ignorance Sara wasn’t lucky enough to have. Leonard’s hand dropped from Sara’s back and she grabbed it instinctively.

“Len,” Sara said quietly, unsure if it was her place, but unable to remain silent.

“It’s fine,” he murmured, pulling his hand from hers and striding past her to the top of the coffin.

Sara felt Lisa’s eyes on her, but didn’t turn away from Leonard.

“My father…” Leonard trailed off, staring at the coffin, before clearing his throat slightly. “My father taught me a lot of hard lessons about life.” His voice was steady, each word carefully considered before escaping his mouth, falling with a steady honesty, even though Sara knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth. “I wouldn’t be the man I was if it wasn’t for him. Even though he’s gone, he left a lot to remember him by, and I’ll carry them with me until I see him again.” He stared at the coffin for a long, silent moment, before stepping away and returning to Sara’s side. He didn’t replace his hand.

Her fists were clenched in the pockets of her coat and she kept her eyes straight forward as a few other people spoke over this piece of shit. Finally, Lisa picked up a handful of dirt and threw it down upon the coffin.

Leonard did the same, though with a slight hesitation. The damp earth thudded against the wooden coffin, echoing strangely in the air.

With that, the crowd began to disperse. Leonard let out a quiet exhale and turned to face Sara.

“A few goodbyes, then we’re good to leave,” he said.

Sara nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth just yet. Leonard walked over to Lisa and Mick, the three of them alone by the headstone. Sara kept her eyes on the crowd, staying between them and any who went to approach them. Several did, though they had to walk by Sara first. She gauged them all, letting them pass one at a time. That is, until Hammond began approaching. She stepped in his way, but he stopped, unperturbed, and addressed her.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “I didn’t realize Leo would be bringing a date.”

“It’s Leonard. And I didn’t realize you’d be crawling out of your evil lair to attend the funeral of an errand boy,” Sara retorted.

Hammond smiled, the thin gesture not reaching his eyes. “Bold words for such a small woman. You are Sara Lance, is that so?”

She just arched a brow. He’d be stupid if he couldn’t identify someone like her. People like him didn’t walk into a new place without knowing everyone else in the area. It’s something they had in common.

“I’ve heard of you,” he said, ignoring her lack of response. “But perhaps some of that was exaggerated? Seeing you now, I doubt that you are capable of half of the stories.” He smiled at the man next to him, big, bulky, and obviously the muscle.

She imitated his smile. “Doubt? Or hope?”

He merely smiled wider.

“Nonetheless,” she said, rolling her eyes, “you could always ask my old pal Damien Darhk. Or Vandal Savage. I’d be happy to describe our last meeting in detail.”

A flicker of recognition indicated he knew exactly what Sara was referring to, and it made her warm to see his creepy ass face a little afraid.

“In respect for my close friend,” Hammond said, leaning in, “I won’t punish you for your words.”

Sara’s brow arched and she took a step forward, getting uncomfortably close, “I would love to see you fucking try.”

“Lance.”

She didn’t look away from Hammond as Leonard returned to her side.

“Leo,” Hammond said quietly. “So wonderful to see you. Though one wishes it wasn’t under such unfortunate circumstances.”

“Yeah,” Leonard said, his voice cool. “Unfortunate there’s one fewer person in the world that shares your favorite pastimes.”

“If you think I don’t have many who indulge my hobbies, you’re mistaken,” Hammond said, the smile on his face cruel.

It clicked now, what Leonard had meant earlier. The scars, what his father had done - he hadn’t been alone -

Her anger burned in his fingertips, but she saw Leonard’s chin go up, and his fists clenched, so Sara did her job.

“Yeah, Len,” she said casually. “It’s amazing what people’ll do for a quick buck, I’m sure this fuckwad can get all kinds of people to shit on him for fun.”

Hammond had probably been threatened by dozens and dozens of people. Horrible, desperate things hurled at him by hundreds of people.

But she was willing to bet no one had ever fucking said anything like that.

Mouth agape, Hammond couldn’t come up with any vaguely threatening bullshit to say. Even Leonard was staring at her, but his eyes were dancing, amazed and annoyed in almost equal measures.

“Come on,” Sara said, turning her back on Hammond, “this place smells like ass.”

Leonard nodded at Hammond, then fell into step with her. Despite her power move, Sara remained tense, blocking Leonard as best she could and her hand hovering over her waist until they were safely ensconced in the car. Only then did Sara let her head lean back on the headrest. “Fuck.”

Leonard ran his hand over his face, covering his mouth as he stared at her.

“What?” she asked.

“You just insulted the head of the Royal Flush Gang. You suggested-”

“Bullshit. I stated.”

Both hands went up to cover his face. “Are you clinically insane?” he mumbled.

“Jury’s out. What do you think, prosecutor?”

A strange sound came from between his fingers, and Sara sat up, leaning towards him, “Are you fucking  _ laughing _ , Snart?”

He dropped his hands, the smile on his face so unexpected today of all days. Sara couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“You insulted Hector Hammond,” he repeated, the grin on his face making it clear he didn’t mind all that much.

“Two seconds earlier, I threatened him, too,” Sara added, turning on the car.

“Definitely insane,” he muttered, sitting back in his seat.

Sara pulled out onto the street and hesitated at the light. Her adrenaline was thrumming beneath her skin, the anger not fading completely. Reaching a decision, she asked, “You have any plans today?”

He glanced at her at the corner of his eye, “What did you have in mind?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving writing this. Just so you all know.

Legendary Security was in an impressively modern building. All chrome and metal, the epitome of high class, even if it was located in the warehouse district. Tall glass windows lined the front lobby, where there sat a massive desk, a petite brunette, and a cavalcade of security measures. Leonard took it all in with a few glances, following closely on Sara’s heels, his hands in his coat pockets.

“Miss Lance,” said the woman, standing up behind the desk. “You look lovely.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Sara glanced over her shoulder at him. “Gideon, meet Leonard Snart. Snart, meet Gideon. She’s the brains around here, and if it weren’t for her, someone would’ve shot our boss a long fucking time ago.”

“It probably would have been you,” Gideon retorted, holding out her hand for Leonard to shake.

He did, feeling mildly bemused at the exchange. “Pleasure.” 

Gideon’s smile was a little too wicked for him to believe that she was all that prim and proper, despite her professional demeanor. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Snart. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“Is that so?” he said, glancing at Sara.

She rolled her eyes and typed in something on the computer.

“So this is where you security types work?” he asked.

“Miss Lance has her office and apartment here, though her work may take her many places,” Gideon answered.

Leonard’s eyes flickered between Gideon and Sara briefly, and he settled on answering with just a nod. So she hadn’t just brought him to her place of work, it was also her home.

Interesting.

“Thanks, Gideon,” Sara said, arching a brow in annoyance.

The woman simply smiled as if she didn’t know what she’d revealed, then returned to her desk and started clicking a few buttons. She returned with a card on a lanyard and passed it Leonard. “This will give you access to all unrestricted and non-personal areas of the base. Enjoy your stay.”

Leonard took the lanyard and hung it around his neck. Then he gestured to Sara, who had crossed her arms, “Lead the way.”

She did, and Leonard followed, ignoring the feel of Gideon’s gaze on his back. Pushing her way through a second set of overly tall glass doors, Sara led the way upstairs. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna change first.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, still looking around. For a security building, it was startlingly open and airy. He’d imagined it briefly as a closed off space, with close metal walls and too many grates. Though the walls were still metal, it was manageable. More importantly, it was a distraction from the day, and that was all he was looking for right now.

She turned left at the top of the stairs, nodding to a woman in the first room. “Hey, ‘Maya.”

“Good afternoon, Sara. And you must be Leonard Snart.” A beautiful young woman, Amaya moved with a grace that Leonard had never before seen on a human. She smiled, her lips curling up as she nodded her head at Leonard, making no attempt to shake his hand. “I’ve heard so much about you, both from Sara and Mick.”

“Mind entertaining him for a minute?” Sara asked. “I need to get out of this before I throw a fit.”

Amaya simply smiled, amusement lacing her voice as she turned back to Leonard. “Sara can play any part she’d like, but when she gets back here, all illusions are shattered.” She gestured for Leonard to follow her into the room. He did, but stopped just within the threshold and leaned on the door, taking it in.

Amaya’s room was bright and airy, the window uncovered and small trinkets lining the sill. Her sheets were a mess of different colors and fabrics, bright yellows and greens, blues and oranges giving some color to the monotone room. The closet was closed and everything seemed to be in its place.

The knives on the nightstand gave him pause, but not enough for him to comment.

“How are you enjoying working with Sara?” Amaya asked, leaning against a wooden desk on the opposite side of the room.

“Is it really working with when you weren’t given a choice?” he responded.

“True. I am sorry for the circumstances.” Amaya turned, picking up a file from her desk and rifling through it. “Has there been any headway in the case?”

“Not that she’s told me.”

“Then there hasn’t been headway. Sara is many things, but she would never keep you in the dark about your safety,” Amaya said.

Leonard found that he agreed with her. “I know.”

Amaya placed the file down. “Despite her being my friend, Sara can be a little difficult. I hope she hasn’t been making your life too challenging.”

“Just every aspect, every day, every second.”

Her laughter was honest and full, and Leonard found that he was smiling in spite of himself.

Still, he felt he had to add, “Though we’ve been making it work.”

“I’m happy to hear it. She’s an amazing agent, but I feel that sometimes she allows her job to become her life,” Amaya said. “I’m glad she’s getting out more.”

“In case you forgot, I am a job.”

Amaya just smiled, her response lost as Sara returned. She was back to the same old Sara, but he noticed there was no jacket in place this time.

“Thanks,” Sara said to Amaya.

“Of course. It was a pleasure to meet you in person, Leonard.”

“And you.”

Amaya smiled as they left.

Leonard fell back into place beside Sara, noticing the bag she held in one hand. He held his questions, though, and followed Sara down the hall to a completely separate staircase. It led down two landings, which had to be below ground, and she pushed open the heavy wooden door at the bottom.

As Leonard stepped through, his managed to keep his mouth closed, but his brows definitely shot up. The whole floor, which was at least as large as the previous two combined, was a massive gym and training center. Machines lined the wall, punching bags hanging from multiple points behind them. Just to the left of center was a boxing ring, with the gloves neatly arranged around it. Lining the whole right wall, and where Sara led him, was a significant gun range.

“Seems like a large place for just you and Amaya,” Leonard finally said.

Sara grinned at him over her shoulder. “Fishing for info, Snart?” She didn’t wait for a response and continued anyway, heading into the gun range and grabbing two headphones. “There’s three of us now, but a couple we’re working with may join. Me, Amaya, and Zari are the mains. Jax used to be part of it, but he left after a couple years to take care of his mother. Ray is technically a client, but he’s been hanging around here more than necessary and making changes to some of our tech for free. He seems to be enjoying himself, so he might stay on.” She grabbed a paper target from a stack and hung it up on their lane. “Nate was a client until three days ago, and we haven’t gotten rid of him. He’s good at research, so no one really minds. And Mick likes to come here to blow off some steam.”

“Are you trying to steal my investigator?” he asked, leaning against the partition between rows.

She smiled that little smirk of hers. “Our boss is Rip, he’s not down here all that often, though. And Gideon is all about the paperwork. So I usually have this place mostly to myself.” She opened up her bag, putting the pieces together until she held a gun.

“So this holds seven rounds,” she said, holding it out to him and gesturing as she spoke. “Safety’s on the side. Leave it on unless you actually want to shoot something. Always two hands, unless you’re an assassin or a fucking Terminator, because the kickback might knock your teeth out otherwise. Aim for center mass - biggest target and statistically more likely payout. Before you shoot, exhale, then squeeze, don’t pull.”

She handed him a set of headphones, but he didn’t put them on just yet.

“And we’re doing this, why?” he asked.

“Helping to blow off some steam. Giving you a target to shoot at, since you can’t shoot anything else that’s been bugging you. Teaching you something,” she listed off potential answers. Then shrugged and mirrored his position on the opposite side. “But really, trying to get your mind off things.”

He eyed her speculatively, trying to figure out what was different about her. Because something was off. Then his gaze trailed down, noting the marks on her arms, the scars that crisscrossed her skin in a variety of ways. She was comfortable here. Comfortable enough to not need her jacket as a shield. Comfortable enough with him.

Figuring he’d give it a try, he finally nodded and stepped up. Sara reached for the gun, but he held out his hand. “No, if we’re doing this, I’m going first.”

“Confident?”

“Not in the slightest. There’s just no way I’m going after you.”

She smirked, “I am amazing.”

“Wasn’t the word I was thinking of,” he muttered, getting a laugh in response.

“Alright, tough guy,” she said, putting her headphones on. “Have at it.”

She pressed a button and the target zoomed backwards down the lane.

Leonard put on the headphones and stepped up, picking up the gun on the counter. It was heavier than he’d anticipated, denser.

He aimed at the target with both hands, and fired. It did rocket in his hands slightly, but he controlled it and placed the gun back down, sliding his headphones around his neck as Sara took hers off.

“Not bad,” she commented. It clipped the edge of the target. Barely counting as a hit, but at least he’d hit the paper. He felt moderately proud of himself. Then Sara stepped up, gestured for him to put on his headphones again, picked it up one handed and fired three quick shots. Each of them was neatly grouped in the center and, when she brought the target back up, they were so close the holes connected.

“Thought you said two hands,” was his only comment.

“Unless,” she reminded him, taking down the target and replacing it with a new one.

He recalled the specifics of her statement and hid his frown with a quip, “I knew you weren’t human.”

She laughed, sending the target back. She turned to him, not reaching for her headphones yet. “Wanna go again?”

Part of him did, but there was something he could gain here. A few questions that needed answers. He weighed his options for a moment, knowing what he’d give up in return and spoke anyway. “How about we make this a little more interesting?”

She cocked a brow, crossing her arms, “Strip shooting never turns out well, I warn you.”

He smirked, “Not what I had in mind.”

“Then do tell. I can shoot circles around you.”

Leonard resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “That’s my point. I can’t outshoot you-”

“Obviously.”

“So there’s no point in me trying. However, I can improve, which I assume is part of the goal of this little venture?” he asked.

She merely shrugged, keeping her eyes on him.

“If I can improve on my shot, you have to honestly answer a question-”

That got her to react. She pushed away from the wall, the frown that had been absent since they left the cemetery returning in full. “Fuck that, I’ve been honest with you about  _ everything _ .”

“-about you,” he finished quickly, stepping forward to pacify her, because he knew she was telling the truth about everything he’d asked. It was what he hadn’t asked yet.

That made the anger fade, replacing it with a cautious, skeptical stare. “Why?”

“Curiosity.”

“Dangerous waters, prosecutor,” she said, but the frown faded and she was starting to smile again. Leonard felt his own shoulders relax as her smile returned, hating the idea of making her upset.

Long way from a week ago.

“What do I get out of this?” she asked.

“If you make whatever shot I say, you get to ask me something.”

“Who says there’s anything I want to know?”

He smirked, the confidence he felt in the courtroom coming to play here. He knew this game. “Call it intuition.”

“Alright. I’ll bite. Let’s go.” She stepped back and let him take the lead.

Leonard took his time this second time around. He reviewed what Sara had said, aimed, exhaled and squeezed. The bullet hole still wasn’t center but it was definitely closer than before.

“Fast learner,” Sara said, as he removed his headphones. “Guess you get a question.” She crossed her arms, her mouth still turned up in a smile, but he could see some concern in her eyes.

He deliberated for a moment, trying to figure out which question would give him the most information without making her feel like she was on trial. Eventually, he asked, “That first night. What did you mean, when you said you now how to deal with monsters?”

Sara didn’t flinch. “Exactly what I said. I’ve got experience.”

“How so?”

“Sounds like two questions.”

“Honesty means the entire truth,” he countered.

She turned to the counter, avoiding his eyes for the first time since they’d met. “I am one.”

* * *

Sara could feel Leonard’s eyes on her as she stood in front of the counter, her hand resting on the weapon, but not picking it up. He was waiting for her to speak, and it wasn’t that she didn’t know what to say; it was that she did, but was unsure if he truly wanted to hear it.

Well, he’d asked for honesty. He was about to fucking regret that.

“I was an assassin,” she said, staring at the counter. “After my few years in the service, I left. I was tired of fighting people who didn’t deserve to die. I wanted to go after the ones who’d sent them there in the first place. So, I fell in with a...league, of sorts. They trained me and I worked for them. I killed for them. Mostly pieces of shit, too powerful to reach by any legal means. But sometimes, they seemed like decent folks. But I told myself I was doing the right thing.”

She recalled the little girl who’d seen her covered in her father’s blood.

“Then, after a bad job, I realized I wasn’t. So I ran. Struggled. Got into trouble, until Rip picked me up one day. He knew every fucked up detail about me and my past, and asked if I wanted to make amends.” She recalled that with painful clarity, how he’d read out her long, long list of mistakes and offered her a chance to do something good.

“I thought it would be impossible, that I could never make up for the shit that I did. I’m the best here, because I know how monsters think. Because they do exactly what I’d do. Did. Sometimes I still think that it’ll never be enough, that I’ve still taken more than I gave. ” Her voice had quieted, not of a conscious decision. She shook it off and shrugged. “But, what the hell, this pays better and I sleep a little easier at night, so it’s worth it.”

She gritted her teeth and turned, waiting to see him hightailing it out of here, or looking at her like she was a monster, or asking for someone else. It was harder than she wanted to admit, turning to face him. Despite how this started, she enjoyed his company. So much so that she brought him here. And if he hated her, or was scared of her, or thought she was-

“The heart.”

She frowned, lifting her eyes to his. Leonard was staring at her, and there was some complicated emotion on his face, but she couldn’t parse it. He turned away before she could even try, looking down the lane. “Your shot. Two, directly through the heart.”

Hesitating, Sara didn’t reach for the weapon until he looked back down at her.

The corner of his mouth lifted and he drawled, “What’s the matter, assassin? Scared you can’t make it?”

The tension within her dissipated with the new monickor - her shame turned into a term of endearment - and she grinned as she picked up the piece. “Get ready to spill, Snart.”

They both put on their headphones. She aimed and fired twice, barely looking. She pressed the button to drag it back to them, seeing the single hole in the heart, where her two bullets had entered.

Leonard shook his head, scoffing quietly. “Impressive.”

“I know.”

He was holding himself a little straighter, his arms crossing over his chest. “It’s time for me to pay up.”

Sara kept her eyes low as she reloaded the gun, recognizing his tells of discomfort. There was one thing that had been niggling at her over the past week, and she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get some answers. She glanced up at him, “So, anyone else know you threw your dad’s case?”

His arms unfolded and his brow went up, but he didn’t say anything.

“Come on,” she said, canting her head at him. “Hotshot lawyer like you only loses one case in his entire career, and it’s his own goddamn father? If you think I didn’t go over that case with a fine tooth comb, especially knowing what kind of man he was, you’re wrong.”

“How’d you know?” he said, admitting without saying it. He took off the headphones, passing them between his fingers.

“You brought up the cigarettes. Set him right up for the prosecution, and they knocked him down. It was fucking poetic.”

Leonard’s smile was unlike anything Sara had ever seen before. It was so full of satisfaction, a dark happiness that he’d brought down the man who’d abused him, without ever being caught. It was (inconveniently) kind of fucking hot.

It faded slightly as he looked up at her. “You ever think about going into law, Lance? You’ve got a talent.”

“And wear those boring ass suits everyday? No, thanks.”

Leonard’s smile faded completely as he spoke again. “I knew he was guilty. He made me represent him anyway. I’d never lost a case before, because all of my clients were actually innocent. But Lewis…” he shook his head. “He admitted to me that he bought the cigarettes at the convenience store where he shot Stein. He had Daniels put on his shirt and hat, the two of them looked enough alike, then go in and buy a forty and a pack an hour’s drive away with his credit card.”

“But it was the wrong brand.”

“My father only ever had loyalty to two things - himself and his smokes. I dropped the hint, and the prosecution did the rest. Next day, I quit being a defense attorney. I was tired of being behind the ball. I didn’t want to defend those who’d been wronged, I wanted to take down those who did the wrongs.”

Sara shook her head, fucking impressed at his audacity. He gave up his reputation, and potentially his entire career, to take down his own father. Leonard Snart was really fucking something. A modern day hero, smart, clever, sarcastic as fuck, handsome-

Wait, what?

Leonard stilled, his eyes going distant and the headphones hanging limp in his hand.

“Len?” she asked, pushing aside wayward, inappropriate and, frankly, un-fucking-helpful thoughts.

“The last conversation I had with him, Lewis. It was a year ago, so I didn’t...but he said-”

“Len,” she said, stepping up to him and placing her hand on his arm. “Full sentences.”

“My father suspected I threw his case, but he couldn't prove it. I never said anything, and no one else had a clue, but Lewis...I met with him a year ago, supposedly about Lisa’s nonexistent trust.” Leonard looked down at her. “He said he knew I threw the case. And he said I’d be sorry. That if I cared so much about my career and so little for my family, that I would lose everything. And the notes-”

_ Stop or you’ll be sorry. _

_ Do you care about your career more than your life? _

_ Drop the case or lose everything. _

She ignored the chills that appeared, recalling the letters perfectly. She approached the wall and jammed her hand onto a button. “Gideon!”

Gideon’s voice echoed throughout the room, punctuated with the briefest sigh.  _ “Yes, Ms. Lance?” _

“I need everything you’ve got on Lewis Snart,” she said, packing up the guns quickly, but not losing her train of thought. “Former gangs he ran with, cellmates, his dealers, his front men, his fucking dentist,  _ everything _ !”

_ “Of course, but didn’t Lewis Snart pass away just the other day? Why are we investigating him?” _

She shut the gun case with a loud snap. “Because as of this moment, he’s my number one suspect.”

* * *

They left the building shortly after that, neither of them up for playing a game in the face of the revelation. Gideon had lost her smile as they passed through the lobby, nodding curtly at Sara as she spoke on the phone to someone. Leonard thought he saw the logo of the CCPD’s database, but Sara never stopped for him to check. They returned to the car, Sara’s usual checks taking a little longer as she became more thorough.

The ride was nearly silent, Leonard sitting against the door, slightly numb. It made sense. Lewis had made his life a living hell while he was alive, and younger Leonard had thought he was a demon. It only made sense he’d be able to continue from beyond the grave. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the headrest.

Despite the hatred he harbored for his father, Leonard couldn’t deny there was a sense of disappointment. Of hurt, as juvenile as it was. It shouldn’t exist, as Leonard intimately knew what kind of man his father was. But at the same time, it still sprouted in his chest. Hurt that his father had yet again shown he didn’t care for him. Disappointment that yet again, his father didn’t act like a father should. And the guilt of doing something wrong was still there for Leonard, even after years of knowing that he had been the victim.

Leonard ran his hand up his arm, to the first scar he could remember getting. A single, circular burn mark, from the very cigarettes which had gotten Lewis imprisoned. He couldn’t feel it through the shirt and jacket, but he knew it was there. He still felt guilty. Like it had been something he’d done or didn’t do. Maybe there was something he could’ve done differently. But he knew, logically, he was just a kid when it started. And kids don’t deserve that. No kid. Not even him. He inhaled, his chest feeling too tight.

“You doing alright?” Sara asked, her voice soft as they stopped at a red light. “If there’s anything-”

“Don’t,” he said quietly, not opening his eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t be nice to me because of this.” He’d had enough of that from teachers who’d noticed his limp, from lovers who’d seen his scars, from doctors the few times he’d been in bad enough shape to need one. He couldn’t handle the looks, the ones that left a film of his skin, an insurmountable barrier on the relationship. He’d had enough pity to last a lifetime and he didn’t want it - couldn’t handle it - from Sara.

There was a beat of silence. Then, “You want to be a martyr, huh? Well, you’re gonna have to suck it up, old man, because dead or not, I’m tearing your father’s fucked up legacy down, and you’re gonna have to find a new aspect of your shitty childhood to be dramatic about. That fucking better?”

He chuckled, sitting up and opening his eyes, that film clearing away, and the heaviness lifting slightly. “Yeah. That’s better.”

She never looked over at him, but reached across the seat and covered his hand with hers. Leonard might have stared at that connection, something confused in his eyes, but she never saw.

Sara walked with him to his door, a little more tense than usual, but doing a decent job of hiding it. But Leonard could tell, how she walked a little further from him to give herself a better range of movement, how her footsteps were silent, how their conversations were shorter.

She checked the apartment as he took off his coat and placed his bag on the counter. He turned on a light in the kitchen, but left the rest of them off. It was only seven, but he was feeling the effects of the day and would probably head to bed early. Sara met him in the kitchen, giving him a nod to indicate everything was clear. He didn’t say anything as he followed her down the short hallway to the door.

“All set, I’ll see you in the morning,” Sara said, reaching for the handle. “Try not to get up too early, I get bitchy when people wake me up on the weekends.”

“How could I tell the difference?” Leonard asked dryly.

She grinned and turned to go. “‘Night, asshole.”

“Sara.”

She paused in the door, both of them a little startled he actually used her name. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Be careful,” she teased, a grin on her face. “I might start thinking you actually like having me around.”

“God forbid,” he retorted, leaning against the door. Despite his words, he knew it was too late for that. He was used to her being around. He was used to her comments and wit. And though he’d never wish to be stalked, it wasn’t so bad if someone like Sara was looking out for him. He liked having her around. In fact, he might even go as far to say that he liked her.

Without warning, Sara leaned in and hugged him, her arms sliding around his waist and her head tucking under his chin automatically.

He didn’t see it coming, which he’d later argue was the only reason he didn’t try to avoid it, though it was a lie.

In the dark, after such a trying day, he’d admit that it felt nice. That as much as he appreciated the bluntness, this was nice, too. He hesitated a moment, then his arm came up and wrapped around her, pulling her tighter against him. She felt so warm beneath the cool leather, a flame turned human. The warmth slid into his chest and stayed there. If anyone had seen, they might have witnessed him pressing his lips to her hair.

Resting her cheek on his chest, she repeated her earlier promise quietly. “You need anything, I’m there, Len. Promise.”

“Thank you,” he said again, this time softer.

With a final gentle squeeze, Sara released him, winked and said, “Lock up-”

“I know, Lance,” he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Goodnight,” she said, wagging her fingers at him.

He shut the door behind her, clicking the lock as loudly as he could. Then he walked to the window, staring down at the street. He couldn’t see the car from here, but he was able to catch the taillights as she pulled out into the street.

He pulled out his phone, put it down, picked it up, typed out a message and sent it before he reconsidered.

**Goodnight, Sara.**

He put it back down on the counter as he unpacked his messenger bag, emptying it of all the papers he’d collected and had signed throughout the day. Two manila envelopes hit the table, and he opened them to file the papers away. One contained the death certificate of his father, so he put that with the other papers he had to bring to work on Monday. The other, he bent the pegs back and reached in for the papers -

His phone buzzed, revealing that Sara had sent him back a smiley face and **Goodnight, Len. See you tomorrow.** He smiled, lifting the papers out of the folder and looking at them.

The smile vanished and his breath halted as he saw the photograph in his hands.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the lateness of this!

After Sara returned back to the building, she grabbed everyone not actively working and forced them to help her find a connection between Lewis and the threats, between Lewis and Leonard’s active cases, or between Lewis, Hammond, and Leonard. Anything. The most subtle of connections and she’d fucking run with it.

Which is why, when they’d found nothing in the first three hours, not a single fucking crumb, she’d become pissed off. She retreated to the gym, worked herself into the mat, crashed for an hour, and returned, coffees in hand, determined not to leave again until there was something.

“I think I got something,” Nate spoke up from between a pile of court documents and a box full of Chinese food. It was about two am, but no one had complained. A couple had begged off for a few hours sleep before returning, but they were all here to help Sara. She looked up from the laptop she was on, blinked a couple of times, and focused on the historian.

“What’ve you got?” she asked.

“Might be nothing, but Sam Scudder is one of his cases, right?”

“Yes.” Sara had memorized the extensive list of people on Snart’s current cases days ago. “Currently on trial for first-degree murder. Goes to court this week.”

“Okay, well, he was at Iron Heights at the same time Lewis Snart was. Just for two months at the beginning of Snart’s time, and they didn’t share the same cell. So, it may be nothing. But my gut says it’s something.”

Sara closed out of what she was working on and grabbed Scudder’s file, distributing copies to everyone in the room. “Find the connection.”

An hour later, Rip was the one to strike gold. “Have any of you ever heard of Amos Fortune?”

None of them recalled it, except, shockingly, Ray. “Yeah. The guy who claimed to have found the ‘luck glands.’”

“Gross,” said Zari.

“Indeed,” Rip agreed. “Well, he ran with a crowd called the Royal Flush Gang.” Gideon was looking over his shoulder, nodding to agree with his statements.

Damn.

“And Scudder was working for him when Hammond came in and took over.”

Shit.

“After the coup, Scudder jumped ship and served with Hammond for six months, before being arrested the first time. It was such a short period, it was never really notated in his cases, but this article here that confirms it,” he handed it over to Sara.

Skimming it, Sara saw everything corroborated on the paper. Scudder was in the Royal Flush Gang, stayed while it was taken over by Hammond, then went to prison, where he ran into Lewis, who had his own little thing with Hammond.

“He got out of prison and seemed to fall right back in, working with the Flush Gang multiple times, before his most recent arrest.” Rip took the paper back. “I don’t have a connection to Snart, yet, other than he’s the lawyer prosecuting him, but-”

“There’s a connection,” Sara said quietly. “Lewis and Hammond had this neat little club where they abused kids.” No one spoke after that, until Sara looked up, “What did Scudder do for Fortune?”

“Hitman.”

Motherfuckingshit _ fuck _ .

“Okay,” said Sara, raising her voice, though no one else was speaking. “Working theory: Hammond is going after Snart to make him drop the case on his cleaner. Timing makes sense, and there’s a connection with Hammond, who’s an actual psychopath, so that matches our theory on the notes. Bonus points, the fucker is trying to get back at Snart on Lewis’s behalf, in return for allowing Hammond in on his fucked up extracurriculars. He lost his partner, so he’s getting even. Find out who’s in the gang as of today and get me everything you’ve got.”

Amaya pulled Sara aside as the rest of them went back to work. “You need to get some sleep.”

“I’m fine, I can-”

“You will have to be at Leonard’s side all day today, and you’ll probably be reviewing his cases as well. You need to be rested. It’s going to take us some time to get all that information, you can rest. We’ve got this.”

The look on her face made it clear that she wouldn’t be taking no as an answer, and Sara had faced off against Amaya in the gym too often not to take the implied threat seriously. “Fine. But if you find something-”

“We’ll put it in a file for when you wake up. Get some sleep.”

Sara trudged off to bed, feeling Amaya glare at her back until she was out of sight.

Her room was on the end of the hall she led Leonard to yesterday - seemed like a week ago - and had only one small window. She’d chosen it precisely for that reason. Fewer entrances. When she’d first moved in, she’d kept the room as sparse as possible, looking for any reason to leave, despite Rip’s suggestion that she could use this to help her conscience. Now, pictures were taped up onto the closet doors and around the window sill, her sister and father’s faces, Amaya and Zari, even several of her and Jax before he left. Everyone who mattered, everyone who believed that she could be more than she thought she was, was represented in the room.

Plugging in her phone, Sara turned up the volume all the way, though she rarely slept through any irregular noises in her room. She glanced once more at the message from Leonard, smiled and fell asleep.

When she woke up at six, there was nothing new in the digital file her team had created, other than a list of names. None of them were familiar to her, so she put it aside for now and checked in on Leonard. His tracker had him in his penthouse, so she sent him a text.

**I’m up. Let me know when you’re awake and ready for company. We’ve got some shit to sort through.**

It was still early, so she went down and spent an hour in the gym, then took a shower, grabbing some breakfast on the way to the conference room. After stopping to check in with Amaya, Gideon, and Ray, who were currently on research duty and had nothing new to report, she checked her phone again to find no response.

**I thought old men got up early and went to bed early, isn’t that the deal?**

She grinned as she sent it off, finishing her breakfast and reviewing the few bits of information that had been added to the file, but they were low-level at best. Around eight, she checked her phone again, and there was still no response.

Sara returned to her room,  **Hey, everything okay? You’re usually up by now.**

As fifteen minutes ticked by, Sara grew more and more anxious.

**Snart, if you’re playing a joke, I’m missing the punchline.**

Nothing.

**Check in, please.**

Another five minutes and she got dressed, throwing on her jacket and jogging down to the garage. The tracker still showed him in his house, not moving. On the way she texted one last time.

**Check in or it’s guns fucking blazing. Not a joke.**

“Sara?” Ray called, just arriving at the building and getting out of his car. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” she retorted sharply, getting to the garage and shoving the door aside. As she threw her leg over her bike, she looked one last time at her phone. Still no answer.

“Fuck!” she snarled into her helmet before peeling out onto the street. 

If someone were to have been keeping tabs, Sara had thirteen traffic violations on the trip to Leonard’s building, including but not limited to driving on the sidewalk, splitting the lanes, and speeding - so much speeding. She made it to Leonard’s place in record time, parking on the sidewalk, before running up the seven flights of stairs to his floor.

The door was shut and still locked, but Sara drew her gun anyway, listening for anything inside the apartment. When there wasn’t a sound, she knocked. “Snart?”

No response.

She used the key he’d reluctantly given her the second day, sliding in silently and locking the door behind her. Keeping her gun ready, she stepped forward, looking for any sign of something being off.

She got to the edge of Leonard’s kitchen, a figure moving in the unlit space and she reacted, aiming her gun in a swift motion. Her finger hovered over the trigger, then she saw the profile and realized who it was.

Leonard never moved, not even when Sara cursed under her breath and uncocked the gun, putting it back in her holster.

“Leonard, what the actual fuck?!” she shouted, turning on the light.

The lights threw him into relief as leaned against the counter, shirt untucked and cuffs loose, still in the same suit from the funeral. He had a crystal glass in his hand, too full of amber liquid to be a casual drink. She strode towards him, pissed that he was okay, and relieved for the same reason. In a few quick moments, she determined that no one else was in the house and that he was physically fine, which made the relief begin to fade and her anger begin to grow.

“Why the hell didn’t you answer your phone?! We had a deal!” she shouted, getting no reaction from him. Beneath her boot, glass crunched. She looked down to see a shattered glass on the ground that would have matched the one in his hand. 

Sara took a moment, looking closer at him. He was half drunk, but the lines on his face were more than anger. This was fear.

Immediately, everything in her shifted, the anger now directed within, but now wasn’t the time. She took a deep breath and looked up at him.

“What happened?” she asked quietly, ignoring the glass as she got closer to him.

Leonard didn’t move, didn’t even register that she was there.

“Leonard,” she repeated, her voice gentler this time, placing her hand on his arm.

He looked up slowly, first to where her hand rested on his arm, then up to her face, his eyes red and hazed, then gestured with the glass to the table, where a manila envelope sat. The top was open, and a photograph sat facedown over it.

Sara picked it up, seeing Lisa’s face in the photo. She was looking down at her phone, blissfully unaware that someone was following her. Over her face, scrawled in silver pen:

_ Do you care so little for your family? You’d choose your career over her? _

Exhaling slowly, she put the photo back down where it was.

“Where’d you get this?” she asked, fighting hard to keep her voice calm.

“In my bag,” he said, his voice hoarse, either from disuse, or too much use, and she prayed for the former. “Yesterday.”

Yesterday. Fourteen goddamn hours of him dealing with this alone. Her guilt twisted again. “Why didn’t you call me?” she asked.

He shrugged, just one shoulder moving slightly. “What could you have done?”

“My fucking job, Snart,” she said, taking the photo and putting it back in the envelope, out of sight. “Made sure you weren’t alone. Look out for you. Keep you from drinking the good stuff over bad shit.”

He scoffed, downing the glass in his hands and reaching for the bottle. Sara grabbed it and kept it out his reach. “You’ve had enough.”

Leonard stared at her, then put the glass down a little harder than he should have. He held her gaze for a long moment, and she wasn’t sure if he was going to yell or try to grab the bottle or curse at her-

Instead, he took in a deep breath, hanging his head as he braced himself against the counter. Then he looked up. “They’re going after Lisa, now.”

“Yeah.” Lies didn’t do anything but make him less prepared. “But we think we know why. Scudder. On your docket this week. Hitman for the Royal Flush gang, which is currently run by-”

“Hammond,” he finished quietly.

“Exactly.”

He was quiet, clearly mulling over the new information. He ran his hand over his face. “What am I supposed to do, Lance?” he asked, his voice rougher for different reasons now.

“You never listen to anything I say. Why’s now any different?” she said, trying to get him to lighten up.

“Because for the first time ever, I don’t know.”

Sara chewed her lip, then leaned against the counter next to him. “You do know, smartass.” She bumped her shoulder against him. “What’re your options?”

Leonard didn’t hesitate, knowing the same things she did. “Drop the case and let him get away with it.”

“What’ll happen?” she asked, staring at his profile.

“More people will die. No guarantee they’ll leave me and Lisa alone. No guarantee they won’t do this again,” he answered.

“And if you don’t stop?”

“He’ll be convicted. But I run the risk of someone coming after Lisa.”

“And you.”

He didn’t say anything.

Sara stared at him, knowing he was about to hate her a little bit. “There’s only one option you can live with, Snart. And you know it.”

He glared at her, the first moment of real emotion from him since she’d walked in. “Lisa is more important than any stranger.”

“I know. I’ll have protection put on her. She’ll be safe.”

“I’m not choosing someone else over her. But if I can bring Hammond down, there won’t be a threat to her. And taking out his cleaner is a blow to any gang,” he said, trying to convince himself as much as he was her.

“I agree,” she responded easily.

“Lance, I’m not- this isn’t about me-” he started, his voice tight.

Sara put her hand on his shoulder, “Snart, you love your sister. I know. You’ll do anything to protect her, but sometimes that’s a choice between a rock and a fucking bullet. It’s a hard choice. I know you’re doing this for her. For everyone in this city.”

She allowed him another couple moments of silence, letting him come to terms with his decision. Then, she squeezed his arm and let go. “Why don’t you take a shower and get cleaned up, ‘cause you smell like a dive bar. I’m gonna call in some backup for this, get someone on Lisa’s place, and we can figure out what to do after that, okay?”

“What kind of dive bar serves fifteen year old scotch?” he inquired, some light returning to his eyes.

“Fifteen years, huh?” she repeated, eyeing the bottle in her hand. She took a long swig, which made him smile faintly, then grabbed the cap and spun it on. “Go on, Snart. I’ve got this.”

“I know,” he said quietly. He left, his hand grazing over her shoulder in thanks before he got to his bedroom and shut the door.

As soon as he was gone, Sara pulled out her phone and called the Legends’ number.

_ “Legendary Security, this is-” _

“Get me Rip, right the fuck now.”

* * *

Sara paced in Leonard’s kitchen, as Rip stared down at the letter on the counter.

“We’ll obviously put security on his sister,” Rip said quietly, looking up at Sara, who had yet to stop moving. “But I’m not certain why-”

“How the  _ fuck  _ did it get here, Rip?” Sara hissed, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the bathroom door was still shut. The water was running, and had been since just after Rip arrived. “I check his mail. I check his place. We didn’t go to the office, but I check that, too. There was nothing in the car.”

“So what options are left?” Rip asked, eyeing her.

“Someone slipped it in his mail after I checked? Or…” she trailed off as realization hit. “Or someone got close enough to get it in his bag. I would’ve been right there and not seen it. Motherfucker,” she whispered, covering her mouth briefly. “They got close enough to touch him, Rip, and I didn’t fucking see it.”

“We knew the funeral was risky,” Rip reminded her. “And our biggest suspect was there. Could he have gotten close enough to-”

“No.” She was certain about that, at least. “No, Hammond never got close enough.”

“Alright. We’ll run recognition on the rest of the funeral party, and I’ll have Miss Tomaz tail the sister. We’ll fill her in on everything that’s going on. Mr. Palmer has been setting up security downstairs that will do real-time facial recognition, so if we narrow down the targets, we can keep anyone we don’t want in from entering. Meantime,” he cleared his throat, fidgeted with the paper for a moment, then looked at her, “are you certain you’re okay here?”

Sara, who still hadn’t stopped pacing, glanced up at him briefly, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that...you seem a little,  _ attached  _ to Mr. Snart, and I’m wondering if you’re able to remain clear-headed enough to do the job.” His voice got stronger as he continued, though Sara finally stopped pacing and started glaring halfway through.

“Back the fuck up. Are you accusing me of being too emotionally invested in keeping a halfway decent guy from being murdered?”

“You know that’s not what I’m saying. But I worry that you may be getting a little too close and-”

“I’m in control, Rip. I can do the job.”

He nodded after a moment, dropping the subject. “I’ll take this letter back, see if we can pick up anything from it. It’s the most recent, so there may be some trace evidence we can pick up on. I’ll keep you updated on everything else.”

“Thanks,” she said, sharper than normal.

Rip took the letter and headed to the door, stopping as he opened it. “If you need anything, we’re here.”

“Thank you.” That one was a little more sincere.

A quick nod, and Rip left. Sara locked the door behind him, then rested her forehead against the wood, taking a couple deep breaths.

She’d been in this business a while now, and she’d dealt with dangerous situations before. She’d been in war zones and at the wrong end of a gun, and nearly been killed several times and was brought back from the brink. But this morning had been terrifying. The not knowing. She clenched her fist, getting rid of the last vestiges of fear, the last faint tremors. She had to be calm. Leonard needed her to be calm.

She walked into the living room and sat at his piano, running her fingers across the cover. The mirror-like surface of the wood caught her fingerprints, so she wiped them off and lifted the cover without leaving more marks. Grazing her hands over the keys, she found a familiar position. With only a few mistakes - muscle memory was kind of her thing - she managed to bring forth a few bars of a familiar song into the empty room. The mindless action soothed her, and her breath moved in time with the music, slow and steady.

She heard the bathroom door open, but didn’t stop until she’d reached the end of the first verse, letting the last chord echo a little.

“I didn’t know you played.” His voice sounded calmer now and she smiled.

“I don’t anymore,” she said, turning to face him. “But sometimes-”

She broke off, nearly swallowing her tongue as she looked at him. Gone were the suits and dress coats. In their place, sinfully tight jeans and a sweater that looked so soft, she wanted to run her hands all over him.  _ It. _

Sara cleared her throat and looked back down at the piano. “Sometimes it’s nice.” She covered the keys again and stood. She looked over him again, prepared this time. There were still bags under his eyes, but the lines weren’t as deeply entrenched on his skin, his eyes brighter and sharper than they were earlier.

“Rip’s come and gone. He’s gonna get security on Lisa, so she’ll be safe. He’s taking the letter back to see whatever shit we can get off of it, and you and I are making sure we put Scudder away for a good long time. Can you handle that?”

He nodded, turning to his desk and pulling out the file, moving others out of the way and opening up his briefcase to retrieve other paperwork. As he made room for her, he said, “It would be a pleasure.”

“I knew there was a vindictive streak in you, Snart,” she responded, sitting at the chair he’d pulled over for her.

With a low chuckle, he nodded. “Well, it helps that you’ve made things easier. Without you, I imagine I’d be...a lot less capable right now. You always know what to do.”

If he’d seen her panicking this morning, or even five minutes ago, he would’ve thought something very different. This was better. He needed her to be a rock, so that’s exactly what she’d do.

“I’ve got your back, Snart.” She sighed, grabbing the folder and opening it. “Let’s put him away.”

* * *

“What I don’t get is, why now?”

Leonard leaned back in his chair, linking his hands behind his head and watching Sara as she paced around his room. Discarded boxes from their lunch of Chinese delivery were spread over his kitchen counter, a few spots of orange chicken sauce dotting the dark marble.

_ “What do you mean you don’t like orange chicken?” he’d asked her earlier. _

_ “It’s not personal, Snart,” she laughed, leaning away as he held the box out to her. _

_ “What kind of person hates orange chicken?” _

_ “This kind.” _

She’d ditched her jacket over the back of his couch, and had pulled a blade out of somewhere to flip over her fingers, still waiting for an answer, apparently.

“Because he got caught,” he said.

“Yeah, but so did Hammond’s bookkeeper, three months ago.”

“I know. I was on the case.”

“I know,” she retorted, glaring at him as she continued to pace. “But that led to the cops taking down some thirty-five percent of Hammond’s businesses. That crippled him. So why didn’t he try to threaten you then? Why all this shit over a subpar hitman who was stupid enough to get himself caught?”

“Convenience. Hammond was looking for a reason to come after me. Last wishes of dear old dad,” Leonard suggested. “Any number of reasons.”

Sara shrugged, clearly unconvinced, but letting it go for the moment. Leonard kept his eyes on her for a long minute, then turned back to drafting his arguments for court tomorrow. As he did, he spoke, “What surprises me is that Hammond is choosing to threaten over such a simple case. Scudder confessed. This case is open and shut. Any prosecutor could close it.”

“Why’d he confess?”

“No choice.” He turned to the next page, tapping the back of his pen against his desk. “Found with the murder weapon, prints on the body matched the ones in the system, he was leaving the scene of the crime.” He shuffled through a few pages, then handed her a photograph of the crime scene. It wasn’t even included in most of his arguments, since the case was so clear. “Look for yourself.”

She came over and grabbed with, bringing it back to the window with a frown.

He worked quickly in the next few minutes, falling into the role of prosecutor easily. He’d drafted the few questions he’d have for Scudder before Sara walked over, the photo almost at her nose. “You have a coroner’s report?”

“Come again?” he asked, not quite paying attention.

“Coroner’s report, Snart. Do you have it?”

He sighed, grabbing the report and handing it over to her. She began reading it, even as he summed it up for her. “Two in the head. Matched the gun found on Scudder. Classic execution-”

“No.” He fell silent as she dropped the papers in front of him. “He’s lying.”

“What?”

“Scudder’s fucking  _ lying _ , Snart. He may have killed the guy, but he wasn’t alone. There was more than one person.” She leaned over his shoulder, putting the photo on top of his papers. “Look. This entrance wound is a mirror image of this one. Unless he shot him with two hands,” she bent her wrists awkwardly, “or got on his stomach to shoot him again, there’s no way that angle makes sense, unless-”

“Unless there was someone else there. Someone Scudder felt he had to protect,” Leonard finished, picking up the photo. How the hell did he miss this?

“And if he’s willing to go down protecting someone, someone Hammond is so keen on keeping you from investigating at all, they must be someone important to his organization. Even more important than his bookie or his cleaner. Someone that’s actually worth threatening the hotshot lawyer on the case.”

He smirked, “You think I’m hot?”

“That is not what I said,” she argued, a faint smile beginning to appear, dispelling some of the tension that had been lingering about her face.

“It’s what you meant.”

“Is this you in a good mood?” she quipped at him. “Because you are super fucking annoying in a good mood, and I hate it. Go back to being whiny and dramatic.”

“That’s not a no,” he said, just as quickly, enjoying the faint flush on her cheeks. He leaned a little nearer to her, letting his smile fade into a smirk.

Sara rolled her eyes. “So we need to figure out who the fuck Scudder is protecting and why they matter so much to Hammond. I’ll put some of my people at Legends on it-”

“I’ve got it.”

She leaned back slightly, meeting his eyes from a safer distance. “You’ve got it, huh?”

“He faces off against me in court tomorrow. I’ll find out. Your thing is guns blazing. Mine is getting people to admit what they didn’t want to.”

“You think you can get him to admit who else was there?” Sara asked, her brow arched.

“Just like I got you to admit you think I’m hot.”

She smiled. “Fuck off, Snart.”

* * *

It was late when Sara grabbed her jacket and pulled it on. She’d helped Leonard run through potential questions, and she had to admit, he knew what he was doing.

His eyes darted around the room several times as she started making moves to the door. Leonard never said anything as he started walking her out, the dark hallway making it harder to see the lines appearing on his face, but not impossible.

Sara stopped at the door, fixing her cuffs unnecessarily. “If you want, I can stay here tonight.”

Leonard smiled faintly, the lines still there, but more manageable. “If I have to be in court tomorrow, I need some sleep. You being here won’t help in that regard.”

“You’re fucking bold, Snart.”

He shrugged, “Facts are facts, Lance.”

She laughed then, leaning up and kissing his cheek. For a moment, the briefest breath, she hesitated, there against his skin. But Rip’s comment came rushing back, and she thought maybe...maybe, Rip had a point.

“You need anything-” she started, stepping away from him.

“I know,” he finished, a tired smile on his face at the repetition. “Guns blazing.”

“I mean it. Anything.”

“I know,” he repeated. His hand lifted up briefly, like he was going to touch her face or her shoulder. He dropped it down, taking a small step back. “Goodnight.”

“‘Night, Len. See you tomorrow.”

She walked down the stairwell, hands in her pockets and head bowed as she mulled over the happenings of today. A long fucking day.

Still, when she got outside, she didn’t get onto her bike immediately. She crossed the street and stood in an alley, far enough back that she could see the glow from the living room windows on the seventh floor. She watched, chewing on her nail, until the lights went out. Checking the phone, she saw that Leonard was in his bedroom. Throwing up a quick request to whoever might listen, she asked that he got some rest.

Soon after, she got on her bike and headed home, but her thoughts remained at the seventh story penthouse.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Snart goes to court.  
> Ms. Lance thinks he's hot fucking shit.
> 
> She is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I know about lawyers and court is from Law and Order reruns.

Sara had long since gotten over her arrogance and admitted that Leonard Snart was an impressive man. She’d seen him at his worst, and he was still dignified, in control, and sure of himself, for the most part. Part of her, the part that wished sometimes she could deal with other people easier, respected him a little for how high he’d risen despite the anchors of his past. He was admirable.

Then Sara met the courtroom version of Leonard and-

Holy.

Fucking.

_ Shit _ .

He was a motherfucking badass in a suit. He walked into the courtroom (with a double door entrance, and her on his heels) like he owned it, and from the moment he opened his mouth, he fucking did. Every eye was on him, everyone in attendance hung onto his every word, and he was a sarcastic, quick-talking, didn’t-take-shit kind of lawyer that she actually respected.

“Am I to understand prosecution is not offering a plea deal?” the judge had asked near the beginning of the trial.

“Correct, Your Honor,” Leonard answered, his eyes on his papers. “Plea deals are for those who feel guilt for what they’ve done.”

Sara smothered her smile from where she sat behind Leonard, sitting back on the bench and getting ready for one hell of a ride.

“Your name is Samuel Scudder?” Leonard asked, hand in his pockets as he stood in front of Scudder on the stand.

“Yes.” The man was older, his face drawn, and dark hair hung on either side of his face. The orange jumpsuit wasn’t doing much for him, but Sara doubted a suit would’ve helped any. The greasy face and ferrety eyes didn’t do Scudder any favors at all.

“Thirty-four years old?”

“Yes.”

“Right-handed?”

“Uh, yes?”

“You have to think about that?” Leonard said, shooting the questions at him as rapidly as he could.

“No,” Scudder retorted, frowning at Leonard. “I just don’t see the point.”

“Luckily, it’s not up to you to determine relevance.” Leonard continued his questions. “You’re a hitman?”

“I’ve killed for money.”

“And how long have you been killing for Hector Hammond’s money?”

“Objection!” cried the defense. “That’s a leading question.”

“Leading to the truth,” Leonard retorted just as quickly.

“Mr. Snart…” said the judge warningly, apparently used to this type of behavior from Leonard. Sara bit her lip to hide her smile.

Leonard smirked, the condescending glance shot to the defense not apologetic at all. “Withdrawn.” 

Didn’t matter than he’d withdrawn, the jury was already leaning towards Leonard.

Leonard looked back to Scudder. “You single?”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, are you single?”

“I’m sure as hell not interested in you,” Scudder spat.

“Mr. Scudder,” said the judge, her tone sharper than when she addressed Leonard. “Answer the question.”

Scudder rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m single.”

“So Rosalind Dillon, who visited you several times in your brief incarceration prior to the trial, is not your girlfriend?” Leonard asked.

Scudder remained quiet, glaring at him.

“You’re either lying to me or lying to her,” Leonard said, glancing at the jury. “Don’t know which is worse.” That elicited a brief laugh from a few of the jurors.

“She’s a girl I was seeing. I don’t do girlfriends,” Scudder finally said.

Sara immediately did a search for Rosalind Dillon, emailing the name to Legends to look up. She wasn’t on the list they’d put together last night. Petty crimes, shoplifting. Nothing serious.

“Charming. What does Rosa do?”

“Me.”

“Mr. Scudder, have some decency, or I’ll hold you in contempt,” the judge snapped.

“She’s in retail. Clothing.”

“Nice girl?”

“Nice enough.”

Leonard hummed, “Right. How much can you bench, Scudder?”

“Are you looking for a fucking date or something?”

“Mr. Scudder!”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Leonard said, speaking over the judge’s ire. “I’m unavailable as of right now. Just curiosity.”

Sara tried not to flush at that comment, keeping her eyes on Leonard as he stared down Scudder.

“I can bench 200 pounds.”

“And you’re right handed?” he asked again.

“Yes.”

“And your preferred gun of choice?”

Scudder’s mouth opened, then shut again, and Sara grinned. Leonard was getting close.

“I don’t have one,” Scudder finally said.

“Sure you don’t,” Leonard said, winking at Scudder. Then, his tone changed, “Are you aware that Hector Hammond’s bookie was convicted a few months ago?”

Scudder just glared.

“Mr. Scudder,” the judge said.

“That’s fine, Your Honor. He doesn’t have to answer,” Leonard said, stepping up to Sam’s booth and leaning on the bannister, speaking as if it were only him and Scudder in the room. “So, he was convicted a few months ago and we got access to all sorts of classified information. The reason I asked if you were on Hammond’s payroll, is because we found several payments made to your name.”

“So? That doesn’t-”

“And then corroborated those payments with your bank account,” Leonard finished.

Scudder fell silent.

“So, I’ll ask again, with context, and without leading the witness,” Leonard said, glancing at the defense with a mocking smile, “how long have you been receiving money from Hector Hammond for undisclosed services?”

“Seven years,” Scudder muttered.

“Great. So glad we’re all on the same page.” Leonard went back to his desk and grabbed a piece of paper. “Now, looking at the payments, I’m seeing some regular occurrences of payments of $15,000. Not bad for a hired gun.”

“Objection.”

Leonard nodded, waving his hands as he discarded that line of questioning. “Withdrawn. Each of these payments align with the disappearance or murder of some opponent of Hammond - rival gang lords, politicians, lawyers-” He looked at the jury and shrugged. “I’m sure that’s just a coincidence.”

“Objection! Is there a question in here?”

“Several in fact, just giving some background information,” Leonard said, nodding at the defense again. “So you received relatively consistent payments over the last seven years, but in the last three months, those payments have diminished significantly. Still as often, but you’re being paid less. The fact that you’re here tells me you haven’t quite retired from whatever work you do, wet or dry.”

“Objection!”

“Are you still working for Hammond?” Leonard asked.

“Yes,” Scudder said, visibly agitated by the line of questioning.

“Then why aren’t you getting paid the full amount?”

“What the hell does this have to do with anything?” Scudder shouted. “You concerned about my tax bracket?”

“Oh, not in the slightest, in fact,” Leonard said. “I see that several payments have begun going to another person - half the amount, at the same times as your jobs. Who’s receiving the other half of those payments?”

Scudder got to his feet, ignoring the cops as they stepped forward towards him. Sara tensed, her hand going to her waist, but remained in her chair. Scudder shouted, “Look, I’m on trial for killing McCulloch, and I’ve admitted to that, so what the hell are you trying to do?! I’m guilty, so send me the fuck away from you!”

“Because you’re lying, Mr. Scudder!” Leonard shouted, startling Scudder into silence and stillness. The jury stared at him, open-mouthed and rapt, even the defense attorney stared at Leonard, confusion raging in his eyes.

Sara leaned forward as Leonard leveled a glare at Scudder, his voice still audible to everyone in the room.

“You’re a liar, Mr. Scudder,” Leonard said quietly, his voice terrifyingly calm. “You shot Evan McCulloch, true. But you’ve been training someone else to do your work. Someone new and inexperienced, who was also there. Who also shot McCulloch. Who was the reason you were caught. And I’m going to find out who.”

The courtroom erupted in conversation, the banging of the gavel doing little to stem the insanity. The defense was on his feet, shouting for a recess and among the chaos, Leonard turned around and smirked at Sara.

Her stomach did the tiniest of flips as she smiled back at him.

Fuck.

She was in  _ sooooo  _ much trouble.

* * *

Sara put her chopsticks down on her plate, shaking her head at him.

“What?” he asked, fork hovering above the plate.

“Are you always like that in the courtroom?” she asked.

It was about an hour after the recess had been announced. The defense lawyer, Spenser, a low-level grunt on Hammond’s payroll, had nearly had a fit over Leonard’s attack, and had gotten the judge to grant a recess until after the lunch break to recover. Knowing he had Scudder on the ropes, and having prepared more than enough the day before, Leonard and Sara had left the courtroom to take advantage of Central City’s downtown restaurant choices and stumbled upon a small sushi bar.

He didn’t ask what she meant.  _ Like that. _

In the courtroom, where he knew all the rules better than his opponents, he felt confident. Untouchable. It was the only place he’d beaten his father. It was the only place he could take down the nightmares of his past, metaphorical or physical. He was invincible in the courtroom and he knew it. So he acted like it. And it had an effect - the jury loved him, the judge let him get away with more, defense hated him - it was all in his favor.

He owned that room. And that mood tended to follow him wherever he went.

“Yes,” he said simply. “Impressed?”

Her brow vaulted up, the corner of her mouth following suit. “A little.”

“I’ll have to try harder.” He grabbed another piece of sushi with his fork and Sara huffed out.

“I can’t believe you refuse to use chopsticks,” she muttered.

“Forks are an amazing invention.”

“I don’t want to get into this again,” she said, her mouth twitching up in a smile.

“Then admit I’m right.”

“Never.”

They finished up and walked back to the courthouse. They got through security just fine, Sara flashing the badge that allowed her to carry her firearms inside. Leonard had cleared that up for her, having dealt with that a few years ago when he and Lisa had actual police security.

Sara paused inside the main doors after security, glancing at her phone. “I have to take this. I’ll be right back.”

Leonard nodded, rummaging through his bag to get his papers back in order, as Sara stepped away and answered the phone.

“Isn’t it the man of the hour.”

Half-recognizing the voice, Leonard looked up, a polite expression on his countenance, “Thanks, but-”

Hector Hammond stood directly in front of him, his face anything but kind.

“No, thanks,” Leonard finished sharply.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Snart?” Hammond said, leaning closer.

“My job.”

“Have you forgotten exactly what I’m capable of?”

“No. Want to go in there and discuss it?” Leonard said, gesturing to the courtroom. “I’m sure there will be several interested parties.”

Hammond’s lip quivered in anger, “If you think you can threaten me, I’ll-”

“No,” Leonard interrupted coldly. “You won’t do anything. Because I’m the only one keeping you from behind bars. If I speak, with my past, my reputation, they’d listen.”

“You won’t admit to your shame, Leo.”

“How confident are you about that?” Leonard asked, taking a step closer. “I don’t see your goons standing by? Still feeling brave alone?”

“I can destroy you, boy, you’re the one alone here and-”

“I’m not a boy any longer.”

“And not alone.”

Hammond suddenly flinched, twisting to look back, as Sara appeared from behind him, her hand on his shoulder. There was nothing in her hand, but her knuckles were white as she ground her fingers into Hammond’s skin. He tried to lean away from her, but she held him fast.

“You owe Leonard an apology,” she said quietly. Though her voice was calm, Leonard was familiar enough with Sara to recognize the dangerous, flat gaze.

“If you think that-”

Leonard saw the muscles in her arm flex slightly and Hammond broke off with a satisfying squeal of pain. Sara spoke over him.

“That didn’t sound like an apology.”

Pale and panting, Hammond still glared at her. “Bitch, I will take everything you love-”

Sara merely smiled, leaning forward to speak directly in his ear. “And I’ll still take your fucking arm. Apologize.”

Hammond turned back to Leonard, hatred burning in his eyes in a way that Leonard had seen only a handful of times before, when he was much younger. “I  _ apologize _ , Leo.”

Leonard didn’t respond, but Sara released Hammond’s arm. He shook it out, his hand dangling limply, then he opened his mouth-

“Just give me a fucking reason, Hammond,” Sara whispered, her hand on her hip. She took a half step to get between him and Leonard.

Hammond stared at Leonard and Sara, his face glimmering with sweat from pain or anger, it was unclear. “You two deserve each other,” he spat, before turning on his heel and shoving past someone to the doors.

Sara waited until he was gone, then faced Leonard, her brow already drawing together, “Are you-”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, that was Rip and-”

“Sara, I’m fine. Really.”

She stared at him for a moment, the nodded, her breath huffing out of her. “Okay.”

“What’d Rip have to say?”

“Rosa Dillon hasn’t been at work the past few days, and she was pretty spotty before that. Hammond might have her on the payroll for this, she could be the one Scudder’s training.” She shrugged, the frown still there.

“But…?”

“Something smells wrong about all this. The timing, the people...I don’t know. Something’s messed up.” She rubbed her forehead, that frown still present.

“Come on.” He walked them around the side of the courtroom, down a narrow hallway and into an unused room that some of the lawyers could use for prepping, if their cases were delayed, or conferring with their clients. Leaving the door cracked open, he faced her. “What’s wrong about the timing?”

“Len, you have court-” she argued, waving over her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about me. Talk it through, Sara. What’s wrong about the timing?”

She stared at him for a moment, before sighing. “It’s too strange. Doesn’t line up with Hammond’s rise to head of the gang. Doesn’t line up with your father’s discovery of you throwing the case. The beginning of the notes doesn’t line up with anything at all. Nothing.”

“Scudder’s case-”

“No, I went back, and it doesn’t,” Sara argued, pacing in the small space as best she could. “The first note, the very first one, was sent three months ago - two days  _ before  _ Scudder was taken in.” She ran her hands through her hair. “And Rosa? Petty theft. Small time crimes, then graduates to hired gun? I don’t fucking think so. And why would Hammond be going through so much trouble to protect her? She’s a nobody.”

Leonard nodded, admitting the truth of all those things. “Then what is it?”

“I don’t know,” she hissed, turning to face him. The anger was there, but not directed at him. “I don’t know and that’s what worries me.”

Taking a moment, Leonard inhaled through his nose. Letting it out slowly, he said, “Alright. Well, we know Hammond is involved somehow. Let’s see what we can get from Scudder, at least.”

Sara still looked concerned, so Leonard put his hand on her shoulder to lead her out of the room and back into the hallway. “You keep me from the guns, and I’ll get you the information, Lance.”

She chuckled slightly, “Not exactly how this protection thing is supposed to go.”

“I’m a modern man.”

“That’s for damn sure,” she muttered.

“Lenny?”

Leonard stopped and turned, seeing Lisa walking towards them. “Lis, what are you doing here?”

“Rode with a friend who had a parole check,” she said. “You in court today?”

“Yeah. Scudder’s case.” He frowned, “Which friend?”

“Not a big deal, Lenny.” She looked between the two of them, and belatedly did Leonard realize he still had his hand on Sara’s shoulder. He dropped it, stepping a little closer to Lisa.

“If you need help or something-” he started.

She laughed, a little too sharply, tossing her hair back a little, “I can take care of myself, Lenny. Don’t worry about me.”

“I always do.”

She smiled, then leaned up to kiss his cheek, turning away. “I’ll give you a call later, once I’m done moving my stuff. You can tell me about the case.”

“Sure. Bye, Lisa.”

“Bye!”

Sara was watching Lisa go when Leonard turned back to her. She blinked and refocused on Leonard when he sighed.

“Doing alright?”

“Peachy.”

She smiled at him, and Leonard felt the remnants of the tension from Hammond disappear. “You got this, hotshot. And I’ll watch your back.”

He chuckled quietly. “I know.”

She opened the courtroom door, and waved him in.

Leonard straightened his collar, and stepped inside.

 

* * *

Scudder wiped his face, the tissue he was using already matted and leaving little white bits on his forehead. Sara chewed her nail, watching Leonard pace in front of him.

The pictures had been admitted, an expert brought in to corroborate what Sara had said about the angle of the bullets, Scudder’s finances brought in as evidence, and Leonard was wringing Scudder out to dry.

“What’s the kickback on a Smith and Wesson .357?”

Scudder scoffed, “Like a fucking horse.”

“So you’ve shot one?”

Scudder flinched, “I, uh-”

“The answer you’re looking for is yes,” Leonard stage whispered.

“Objection, there’s no evi-”

“There’s a plethora of evidence. As ballistics previously explained, that was the gun fired at the scene of the crime, to which your witness has already admitted,” Leonard interrupted.

“Overruled,” the judge added, nodding at Leonard to continue.

“So, that’s the gun you fired?” Leonard asked, slipping into that quick-talk action again. Sara leaned forward, her eyes following the exchange.

“Yes.”

“And you used your right hand?”

“Yes.”

“So you shot him in the left side of his head?”

“Uh...yes?”

“But there was another shot, in the right.”

“I did that after.”

“So you laid down on the ground?”

“No-”

“Then you hauled him back up, shot him a second time, then let him drop?”

“Yes.”

“There was no evidence of the body being moved.”

“I’m real good.”

“You were caught,” Leonard reminded him.

“So, maybe I just shot him after he fell.”

“How’d you avoid getting the blood on your clothes if you laid down?”

“I-”

“And you shot him in the right side of the head?” Leonard asked.

“Yes. Wait, no. I mean-”

“Did you shoot him right-handed in the left, or left-handed in the right?”

“I don’t- I just fucking shoot people, okay?”

“Like a hitman?”

“Yes! No!” Scudder dropped the tissue and gripped the banister.

“Two wounds. One hitman,” Leonard cocked his head like he was trying to find a mathematical explanation, holding his hands out like he were weighing the two pieces of evidence. Scudder stared at his hands, his eyes lighting up.

“Both hands,” Scudder said suddenly.

“Pardon?” Leonard asked.

“I shot him with both hands. Two guns. Two hands.” Scudder sat back on the chair, chest heaving.

Leonard nodded, a faint smirk on his face. “Two hands, huh? The kickback is strong on a .357, and you are right handed. With a force of 4.7 foot pounds, there’s no way you shot him twice at the same time, not without keeping the angle accurate.”

“I did.”

“So you shot him with both hands?”

“Yes.”

“So your wrist is broken?”

“No-”

“The shot came from two similar guns, at different angles, but given simultaneously. You’re not ambidextrous, as you’ve established that you’re right handed. So did your partner shoot him twice?”

“No-”

“So they shot them once?” Leonard asked, spinning on his heel to face him. Sara was on the edge of her seat.

“Yes-wait, no!”

“Which is it?”

“I shot him!”

“And your partner shot him the second time?”

“No, she-” Scudder broke off with a gasp.

Sara grinned.

“Ah,” Leonard said quietly, holding up his finger. “So a partner was there. And it’s a woman. Good to know. No further questions at the moment.”

Scudder paled, the defense rose and started speaking, the jury was murmuring. The judge banged her gavel on the podium. “Order!”

Leonard took his seat in front of Sara, looking completely unruffled at the panic. He threw his arm along the bar behind him, glancing back at Sara. 

“Told you I could break him,” he murmured to her, confidence oozing off of every syllable.

“No name yet, smartass.” She couldn’t help her smile, though.

The defense stood and crossed over to the judge, both of them talking quietly. She motioned for Leonard to join them. He stood, winking at Sara as he did do and crossed to the stand, nodding casually to Scudder as he leaned on it, the group of them speaking too quietly for her to hear.

The murmurs of the crowd were loud, the jury continued talking amongst themselves, but Sara heard the doors open and glanced behind instinctively.

A young woman, blonde and disheveled stepped in, raising her hand to point-

No, to aim.

Sara couldn’t get in a full breath - not before she moved, getting into the aisle and drawing her own weapon. Rosalind Dillon, Sara recognized her from the picture, got off one shot before Sara shot twice.

No choice. No other option. No hesitation.

Sara didn’t miss.

Rosa dropped, two in the head, her eyes still open.

There was screaming behind her, all of it happening so quickly that half the crowd was only just realizing what had happened, but Sara could barely hear it.

Sara stared at Rosa, her eyes wide, because she knew - she heard - the sound of Rosa’s bullet hitting someone.

She’d heard it. A grunt of pain, the sounds of a body falling. She stared at Rosa and tried to get the nerve to turn around.

Her chest hurt, she couldn’t breathe.

Who was it...Was it...

Turn around.

Turn around.

_ Turn around! _


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had a terrible fucking day.  
> I needed to write. So this is a little sweeter than I was anticipating.  
> I’m also posting this from my phone because I’ve been hiding from my problems in bed for the past 30 minutes, so I apologize for any errors.  
> Happy Thanksgiving.

Leonard didn’t notice the sound of the door opening.

He did, however, notice when Sara got out of her seat and lunged toward the center of the room.

He noticed as a woman approached, her gun raised.

He noticed Sara getting between the gun and him.

He noticed the lack of hesitation. He noticed Sara moving by reacting, only thinking to protect him. He noticed that she was only wearing her usual, no bulletproof vest, no body armor.

He noticed that the fear that consumed him when he saw the gun aimed at him was absolutely nothing compared to what went through him when he saw how unprotected Sara was.

He noticed the sounds of three bullets. The echoes shot through him, shaking him to his bones, making his vision tilt as he took a step forward, towards the shooter, towards the gun-

Towards Sara.

Screams surrounded him, bringing his focus back, his vision clarifying, and he heard the sound of someone slumping to the ground.

But it wasn’t Sara.

She hadn’t moved, staring at the body in front of her. Her shoulders were rigid and Leonard took another step towards her. “Sara?” he called, unsure if she would even hear him over the clamor in the room.

Every bit of tension drained out of her as she turned, the fear on her face not quite disappearing before she face him. Her eyes darted over him, looking for an injury as he did the same. As soon as she realized he was okay, she looked past him, and Leonard did the same.

Scudder was out of his chair.

Leonard followed Sara back to the stand, cops were starting to filter in, but she didn’t pay them any mind. Scudder was dead. One, right in the chest. He wasn’t breathing, his eyes still wide and stuck in the same expression of shock.

Leonard found that his breath was coming a little shorter as he stared down at Scudder’s body.

Sara looked up to where the judge had been, leaning behind the stand to see that she was now crouched behind the podium. “It’s fine. You’re safe.”

The judge didn’t seem keen on listening to her, but Sara turned away, taking Leonard’s arm. She pulled him towards the woman’s body, rifling through her pockets. There was nothing in them, no wallet or ID. Sara cursed under her breath, then told him, “We’re getting you out of here.”

Cops at the door tried to stop her, but she threw a Legendary Security card at them and told them to call. They pushed past the crowds and paparazzi in record time, moving so quickly that no one really knew what was happening. Everyone was being evacuated from the building, panic beginning to sprout. Flashes still went off, people recognizing Leonard even if they didn’t know what had happened.

Sara kept her hand on Leonard’s arm, pulling and shielding him from questions and people. He was feeling cold - but he was wearing a suit, he rarely got cold. Why was he so cold?

Sara got him into the car before walking around to the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut and peeling out from the parking spot without a word. Once they hit the highway, Sara dialed one-handed and held the phone up to her ear. Leonard only caught half of the conversation.

“Get me Rip...Shut up, Dillon just walked into court with a gun. No. No, I took care of her. She didn’t give me a choice, Rip.” Her voice was flat and detached. “Scudder’s dead. I’ve got Len with me. We’re coming to you...It’s going to be a clusterfuck. I left them a card, but I had to get him out of there...Send out anyone you can spare to help clean this up. And figure out how the fuck Dillon got past security with a fucking gun...We’ll be there soon.”

She hung up, tossing the phone into the cupholder between them. Leonard stared at it, swallowing hard.

“Fuck!” she shouted suddenly, squeezing the steering wheel.

Leonard closed his eyes, leaning back against the headrest.

They drove in silence after that, weaving through traffic until they parked outside Legendary Security. Sara motioned for him to stay inside, stepping out and getting to his door, her eyes still searching around. They got into the lobby and Sara let out a huff of air, her shoulders sliding down, free of tension now that they were inside.

Gideon wasn’t at the desk, but Sara reached behind and grabbed a card. She didn’t hand it to Leonard, but led him back to the doors they went through the last time, up the stairs, and down the hall. But they passed Amaya’s room.

Sara opened a door near the end of the hallway, ushering him in. Her eyes were already on her phone, clearly working on figuring out what had happened, and closed the door behind them.

He shivered slightly, still cold, and as the door clicked shut behind them, the small click echoed like a thunderous sound. An echo of what had happened. And suddenly he was back in the courtroom, staring at Sara in front of the gun, and he was on the sidewalk in front of his house, bullets cracking through the air and hitting him, hitting her-

His lungs closed, he couldn’t breathe, no air, no nothing. He grabbed the desk in the corner, his hands shaking. He couldn’t see, the darkness coming up around him. He didn’t see Sara move, couldn’t hear her, but he felt her move towards him.

“Hey, Jesus, hey, Len?” Sara asked quietly. She grabbed his arms and held them above his head. “Deep breaths, okay? You’re having a panic attack. Just need you to breath deeply. Focus on me.”

The darkness began to fade and he could see her in front of him, blue eyes focused on his as she modeled the breathing she talked him through. “Tell me something you can hear.”

His teeth were chattering and it was freezing. The humming was all around him. “A.C.”

“Good. What’s something you can smell?”

Her jacket swung and creaked as she held his arms up, still, not moving. His lungs were starting to feel a little more open. “Leather.”

“Something you can see.”

“You.”

“Details, smartass. We’re trying to ground you, here.”

“Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Black leather. Scar above your right eye.”

He could breathe now, the chattering stopped. Sara let go of his arms, but caught his hands on the way down, holding onto him as she searched his eyes.

“You good?” she asked.

He felt weak. Not just physically. “Fine.”

She squeezed his hands tightly, “Len.”

The faint reprimand was there, and he sighed. “I’ll be fine. That was just...”

“Terrifying?” she whispered.

Hearing it from her, the trained assassin, the trained security, it actually helped. His feelings weren’t pathetic or weak, he wasn’t wrong for being scared by what had happened. He was normal, and this was a normal reaction to someone coming at him with a gun. Again.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, finding that he felt weak again, this time with relief. He pulled his hands away to wipe his forehead.

“I can get someone else.”

What?

“What?”

Sara avoided his eyes. “If you don’t feel safe, I can get someone else assigned to your case.”

He nearly laughed at her. “Don’t be stupid, Sara.”

“But-”

“I’m not the biggest fans of hitmen, or women, but I was terrified because I thought she shot you. Not because I don’t feel safe.”

She finally gave him a small smile, “Well, I’m the only agent prepared to deal with your insane habits.”

“And I’m the only client willing to put up with your language and bad attitude.”

She laughed, and whatever tension was left disappeared in the echo. Before he could overthink it, he pulled her into a hug, his hand tangling in her hair as he held her close. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She laughed against his chest, both of her arms tight around him. “I’m glad you are.”

They stood that way for a moment, finding comfort in the quiet. Finally, Sara sighed and pulled away. “I have to go figure out how the hell Rosa got in with the gun. Why don’t you stay in here and get some rest? I’m not leaving the building. There’s water in the fridge right here, if you need it.”

“Okay.”

Sara still hesitated. “If you need anything, just call me, and I’ll be right back.”

“I’m fine, Sara. Go on.”

She brushed her hand over his arm briefly, then vanished. Leonard heard her voice calling to someone else in the building as the door shut behind her.

He exhaled slowly, looking around. There weren’t as many bright colors in Sara’s room. Mostly blues. A blue blanket on the bed. A blue dresser under the window. Knives were scattered across the top of it, well used. His eyes drifted up, seeing pictures around the window.

He recognized a few faces. Gideon and Amaya were there several times. A girl who looked remarkably similar to Sara - her sister? An older gentleman between the two girls, his arms around both and a proud look in his eyes. And-

Him.

The two of them, actually. He was rolling his eyes, amused, but trying not to show it. Sara was grinning, looking directly into the camera. It was a selfie she’d taken of them, on their way back from lunch last week, after the spicy food.

He didn’t know what it was, but there was something significant about seeing himself represented in her room, among all of the people she called her friends and family, and he had made it up there. He had few friends. Mick and…

Sara.

He stared at the picture for a long time.

* * *

Sara paused the video again, leaning forward. The computer chair creaked, the monitors of the research room spreading blue lights throughout the dim air. Sara stared at the image, Rosalind raising the gun and aiming-

“If you didn’t see it the first ten times,” Amaya began.

“Yeah, shut up,” Sara muttered.

Amaya leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. “Why does this matter? You aren’t free of him until you can prove who sent the messages. The one Rip brought back couldn’t tell us anything of importance. Hammond is still out there. What’s one hitwoman?”

Gideon knocked on the door as Sara spun her chair around to face Amaya. “Come in!” Sara called. Gideon walked in, sorting through their mail, as Sara responded to Amaya, “Because, if she was an actual fucking hitwoman, I’ll eat Rip’s nasty ass duster. Petty crime to hitwoman? No. And the payments Len was talking about don’t match up to Dillon’s bank account.” She took a handful of mail that Gideon passed over to her. “But I can’t track the actual fucking money, because it gets sorted through three separate accounts, and then distributed in prepaid cards. So that’s fucking unhelpful.”

Amaya took her mail from Gideon and turned her attention through that. Gideon paused in the doorway, looking at Sara with a faint frown.

“Got any advice?” Sara asked her.

“Besides improving your attitude?” Gideon quipped, a delicate brow arched.

Sara couldn’t help her grin. “Yeah.” She flipped through her mail half-heartedly.

Gideon’s mouth quirked up. “Well, consistent payments of $7,500 would make a significant change in someone’s lifestyle. I’d stop looking at where it was sent, and start looking at possible recipients. We know it’s someone involved with Hammond. Start there.”

“How would one find the recipient if they’re using cards not under their names?” Amaya asked.

“There are other changes that could be monitored,” Gideon said, flipping through the rest of the mail as she thought. “Dining out more often would result in cab fares or more spent on gas. Tailoring fees if they’re buying more clothes. Increase in electrical bills for new electronics. Maybe a move to a bigger or better place, so recent changes in recurring bills like water or internet.”

Sara stared at Gideon, her eyes narrowing. “What did you do before working here?”

Gideon smirked. “So many things.”

With a laugh, Sara went through the rest of her mail quickly.

Amaya sat up straighter. “Alright, so we’ll begin with Hammond’s lieutenants, looking for a change in lifestyle and-”

“Mother _ fucker _ ,” Sara whispered. She stared at a manilla envelope, her name on the front. No address, no return, no postage. Just her name.

“Sara?” Amaya asked.

She didn’t answer, but opened the envelope and reached in, grabbing a piece of paper and a photograph.

It was her and Leonard, today, after leaving the courthouse. Her arm was extended in front of her, keeping people away from Leonard, her other arm wrapped around him. Leonard’s eyes were down, but Sara was looking up, just past the camera. She would’ve looked him in the eye. She would’ve seen the bastard, but-

But she didn’t.

“Oh, no,” Amaya said, having stood and looked over Sara’s shoulder.

Gideon joined her, and immediately began dialing the phone she carried with her at all times. “Rip? It’s Gideon. We need you in the research room.”

“What’s the letter say?” Amaya asked.

Sara picked it up, scanning over the short lines.

_ He would’ve let the case go, if it wasn’t for you. This is your fault. His death will be on your hands. How long can you keep him safe? How long will you risk yourself? _

_ How long until your luck runs out? _

Sara’s smile was cold and humorless. These bastards thought they could frighten her into giving up? Into talking Leonard into giving up? They thought that they were more terrifying than her nightmares? Than Sara herself?

She tossed the papers to the side and stood up.

“Sara…” Amaya said warningly.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Gideon began, her voice calm but familiarly warning, “it’s probably a horrible idea.”

“Probably,” Sara agreed quietly. She grabbed the list of the known members of the Royal Flush Gang and scanned it briefly. A name popped out to her: Ernie Clay. Lower level, but a loyal dog for Hammond for several years. Someone who’d hear things. Know things.

As Rip walked in, Sara pushed past him.

“What’s going-”

She continued walking, stopping by the armory and loading up. She heard footsteps behind her, rushing towards her-

“Sara! Wait!”

“Miss Lance, please!”

She turned, only because they were now between her and the garage. She stared at them, Amaya, Gideon, and Rip, blocking the hallway. The photo and letter were in Rip’s hand.

“I understand your frustration,” Rip said, “but you can’t do this.”

Sara was still smiling. “I’m just going to go and have a little conversation.”

“Sara,” Amaya said quietly. “Don’t.”

“They’ve threatened me. They nearly shot Len,  _ again _ ! If you think I’m going to take this lying down-”

“What are you going to do?” Gideon asked. “Work your way through the ranks and kill them until someone gives you the answer you’re looking for?”

“That’s where I was gonna start, yeah.”

“And if you never get an answer?”

Sara turned to Amaya and the other girl sighed in realization. “That’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Either way, problem solved.” Sara made to step around them. “Excuse me.”

“Miss Lance,” Rip said, getting in her way. “Is this really what you want to do? Go down the same road you decided to leave when you came to work here?”

“If it’ll keep Len safe, then yes.”

“So you’ll go after them with guns, do you think they won’t retaliate? More guns? More attacks? On Mr. Snart? His family? You? Us?”

“So I should back down?” Sara snapped, stepping into Rip’s face. “Just sit back and let them keep trying while we flail around, getting nowhere but in their line of sight?”

“You do the job,” Amaya cut in. “You protect him, instead of leaving him behind. We’ve got your back, we’ll help any way we can, but your  _ job  _ is to stand next to him.”

Sara wavered slightly, and she saw some of Rip’s tension fade. Only once had he stood between Sara and a goal. They both knew how the last time had gone.

“I can’t have another Kendra,” Sara warned them. “If that happens-”

“We’ve have leads. We just need to push them through,” Rip said. “We’ve got a money trail, we’ve got names. We need to work the case.”

“We’ll keep him and his family safe,” Gideon said.

Sara hesitated, then sighed, her shoulders sinking down. “We need to find this guy.”

“We will.”

“If something happens, you won’t be able to stop me again,” Sara warned.

“If something happens,” Amaya said quietly, “we’ll be right behind you.”

Sara nodded at Rip, without her usual fervour, then held out her hand for the photo and letter. “I’ll give them back in a bit. But I have to have a conversation.”

Rip handed them over, but frowned. “Is it wise to tell him?”

“I don’t keep secrets from him about the case. I’m not about to start now.” She grabbed the papers and turned on her heel, back towards her room.

Hesitating outside of her door, she knocked, then stepped in. Leonard was seated at her desk, reading a book. Or pretending to read.

He took one look at her and put the book down. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Sara assured him, taking a seat on the desk he was sitting at. “I just...fuck.” She rubbed her face, trying to find some ground here. “Okay, so I told you I’d be upfront about the case. That’s the only reason I’m telling you about this. Because it doesn’t change a fucking thing, other than make me even more annoyed at these assholes. Okay? So I don’t want you going all noble or some shit, because-”

“Sara.”

She handed him the photo and letter, biting her cheek. He took them. Sara saw the moment he realized what it was, the tension returning to his neck and shoulders. He stared at the picture for a long time before going to the letter. He must have read it five times before he finally looked back up at her.

“This was delivered to you?” he asked, his voice carefully monotonous.

“Yeah. Here. Must have been by hand.” She took them back from him, tossing them on the desk behind her. “Rip’s going to see if he can pull anything off the cameras or letter. We know they were at the courthouse, so we can narrow that down further.”

He had yet to meet her eyes. Sara leaned down, forcing him to look at her. “Leonard, this changes  _ nothing _ . It doesn’t matter. If you knew the number of threats I’d had-”

“But this one is because of me. If something happens-”

“It won’t.”

“But if it does-”

Sara cut him off again, “Len, I know what my job is. I went into this both eyes open. I chose this. I’m choosing to stay and protect you. I want to do this.”

“Why?” he asked, quietly.

This fucking moron. He honestly didn’t know.

Sara leaned forward, grabbing his face between her hands and forcing him to look at her. “Because you are extraordinary, Leonard Snart. You are worth a million of regular fucking people. And if I have to break a thousand arms and spend the rest of my life making sure you’re safe, I don’t care, because you are worth it. I will never let anything happen to you so long as I can help it.”

She felt his jaw jump beneath her fingers, felt his hand reach up and wrap around her wrist, squeezing tightly. “Sara…” he breathed, and she had to rethink the intelligence of being quite this close to him.

His eyes darted downwards, lingering on her lips, then back up. It was awfully quiet in her room, and his hand was so warm against her wrist, his breath creating goosebumps on her arms. He visibly swallowed, meeting her eyes and she shivered to see how dark his blue eyes had gotten.

Quietly, he murmured, “Does that mean I’ll get a refund for services?”

Sara laughed, the unexpected release of humor making it all the funnier. She rested her forehead on his as she giggled slightly, then dropped her hands and pulled back, putting space between them before she did something stupid.

But it was probably too late.

* * *

 

Leonard stood by the judge’s bench in the courthouse, the papers he’d come to grab neatly stacked on the prosecutor’s table and waiting for him. His hands were in his pockets, as Sara spoke with a few cops she’d been unable to avoid. Though she’d clarified everything earlier, this seemed more like chatting among peers.

Leonard leaned on the podium, staring at Sara, but seeing her from this afternoon, standing like a sentinel in the middle of the aisle, gun still up when he saw her the first time. In that single moment, he’d only felt fear. But now, recalling it, he was thrown back into his high school literature class, where they’d discussed the dangerous, beautiful valkyries of mythology. They were associated with brightness, gold, and bloodshed. Some of them merely collected the dead, some caused death, and some protected the lives of those dear to them.

Sara glanced back at him, a brief grin flashing towards him before she turned back to the officers, clearly saying her goodbyes.

Leonard didn’t believe in the supernatural, but if he had to guess, he wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if it turned out Sara was a real valkyrie.

She walked towards him, eyes narrowing slightly as she approached. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” He didn’t think she’d appreciate him waxing poetic about her.

“Let’s get you home,” she said, grabbing some of his papers for him.

Leonard followed her easily, not particularly caring where they went at this point.

It was late by the time Leonard and Sara returned back to his apartment. The rain that had been threatening all morning finally arrived, sprinkling down gently, creating a quiet hush of noise against the metal car. They didn’t talk much on the ride there. Not that there wasn’t a thousand things that probably should have been said, but they found some comfort in the quiet. When they got to his apartment, Sara parked on the sidewalk, turning off the car, but making no move to get out.

She sighed, disturbing the quiet for the first time.

“Quite a day,” Leonard said, still facing forward.

“No shit,” she muttered.

He chuckled quietly, somewhat without humor. “I think I’ve thanked you more than I’ve ever thanked anyone in my entire life. But I appear to owe you another one, for what you-”

“You don’t need to thank me,” she interrupted quietly.

Leonard turned to her. “Sara, you killed someone for me today.”

“Yeah.” She finally looked at him. “So?”

He arched his brow, reprimanding her slightly. “After what you said about your past, how you didn’t want to kill-“

“That’s different,” she cut in. Sure and calm, at peace with what she did. “Then, I killed on orders. This was...protecting a friend. She was armed. And she was shooting to kill. I have no regrets. And you never need to thank me for anything.”

This was the second time they’d been close and quiet today. He was starting to enjoy these moments. Where Sara looked a little softer, a little brighter. Still the same dangerous, foul-mouthed woman he’d been getting to know, but somehow more...attainable.

“I want…” he hesitated, unsure exactly what he was going to say, “I wanted to thank you for Lisa.”

Sara rolled her eyes, smiling. “What did I just fucking say?”

His laugh was brief, but dispelled his awkwardness. “Fine.”

Lightning flashed briefly, lighting up the car. Sara’s eyes turned towards the window, a softer smile on her lips. “I love rain,” she said quietly.

He followed her gaze, the grey clouds swirling above them, lighting illuminating behind the whorls. All the while, a thin, persistent mist of rain coming down, making the buildings shimmer, the glass sparkle, if only for a brief time. Everything seemed a little brighter and cleaner.

When he looked back at her, she’d turned her eyes to him. The line between her eyes, that she only got when she was thinking hard or confused about something, seemed to be aimed at him. Part of him wanted to ask what she was thinking about. The other part of him already knew, because the same thoughts plagued him, and he wanted to see how this played out.

So he remained silent and waited.

The line eased and faded, something decided silently. Sara’s lips parted and she leaned forward-

And then her phone pinged.

He might have imagined the huff of annoyance that came from her, because it was the sound that had escaped him as well. She looked away from him, and whatever spell had been woven in the rain and the dark was broken. Leonard tried not to feel disappointed about it. And failed.

Sara read through whatever had arrived on her phone, and rolled her eyes.

“What?” Leonard asked.

“Ray,” she sighed. “Apparently Amaya and Nate’s case has closed, so Ray wants to throw a party to celebrate.”

“And you hate parties?”

Sara laughed, “No. But-” Leonard’s phone pinged and she gestured to it, “that’ll be your invitation.”

It was indeed, for the coming Friday night. Black tie event. Leonard glanced at the list of guests and was surprised to note that it was lengthy.

“You don’t want to go?” he asked.

“No, but I figured you-”

“I don’t mind parties,” he said, unsure what her hesitation was.

Sara smiled, pushing her gold hair back over her shoulder. “Alright. Then do you want to go to the party?”

“With you?”

“Obviously,” she said easily. “Still have a few sociopaths after you.”

He was...disappointed with her response. It was the clear answer, the only answer he should have expected, but…

But he could still remember the warmth of her hands on his face this afternoon, how close she’d gotten, how honest she’d been with him and he’d wondered…

He’d hoped.

So, doing his best to pull his courtroom bravado forward, he caught her eye and asked, “Is this business or pleasure?”

The smile widened and softened. She tilted her head slightly, not dropping his gaze. “Both. That okay?”

“Yes.”

She laughed after a moment, then got out of the car, crossing to his side to walk him to the door. They didn’t speak on the way up to his apartment, or while she confirmed it was safe and empty, or as he walked her back to the door. In fact, they didn’t speak at all until she was at the door. He stood in the doorway and simply said, “Goodnight, Sara.”

She smiled, wagging her fingers at him. “Goodnight, Len.”

He shut and locked the door behind her, listening for her to make her way towards the stairs. Except she didn’t. He leaned against the door, knowing Sara was just on the other side and both of them had to be thinking the same thing. His hand hesitated over the lock, and he imagined she had his key in her hand, waiting, and considering.

What if…

Through the door, he heard an exhaled breath, then the sound of Sara’s footsteps towards the staircase. The whole incident had been nothing, really. A couple of seconds.

But those seconds were the beginning of a real shift.

Leonard stared at the counter where his phone rested, recalling the party invitation.

He and Sara attending a black tie party together, huh?

He’d have to deliver.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Sorry for the delay, and I know you'll be pissed at me at the end of this. So I apologize in advance. Even though this chapter has been one of my favorite things to write thus far.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Leonard paused in his normal morning routine, the phone he’d tossed on the counter ringing loudly. He glanced at the picture and answered.

“Lisa. You were supposed to call.”

_ “Yeah, well, not everyone had your level of security with the 24 hour constant surveillance and all. They kept me there for a while. Zari was able to get them to spring me, and told me you were okay, but I didn’t get home ‘til late.” _ A pause, and the acerbic tone faded slightly.  _ “Are you really okay?” _

“I am. Are you?” He put it on speaker and placed the phone back on the counter.

_ “Of course. Your girl shot her dead. No worries for any of the rest of now.” _

His girl.

_ “You going to this Ray person’s party?” _

“You were invited, too?” he asked, tying his shoe.

_ “Obviously. Zari said they’re pretty kickass. And, open bar.” _

He chuckled, “Yeah. I’ll be there. Mick is on the list, too.”

_ “Yeah, he called. Mind if I take the car, then?” _

“Bring it back in one piece the next day.”

“ _ Obviously _ ,” Lisa said.  _ “Guess I’ll see you Friday night. Glad you’re not dead or anything.” _

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

_ “Tell Sara I say hi.” _

That was too specific to be innocent. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

_ “Defensive, big brother?” _

“Annoying, little sister?” He grabbed his briefcase and headed to the door, switching the phone back to private.

_ “Hey, she’s hot. And apparently kicks ass. I don’t blame you.” _

“We are not discussing this,” he said, walking down the stairs.

_ “So there’s something to discuss?” _

“Goodbye, Lisa,” Leonard said firmly, reaching the landing.

_ “Bye, Romeo.” _

He hung up before she could start in on him again, shoving the phone in his pocket. Moments later a text came through. With an irritated sigh, he pulled out the phone again, reading it while walked down the stairs.

**I’m here. -S**

He found that he was smiling, even as another one came from his sister.

**Have a good day, loverboy.**

With another roll of his eyes, he reached the lobby and nodded to Peter, seeing Sara just outside the door. She smiled as he arrived, the two of them falling into step easily.

“Hey,” she said, handing him a coffee. “How’d you sleep?”

“Well. You?”

“Shitty,” she said. “They found where Dillon was staying,” she added after a couple of minutes.

“And?”

She sighed, stepping a little nearer and lowering her voice. “Lots of firepower. Same fucking paper as the letters. Cameras.” She stopped, then looked up at him, “And a fuckton of pictures of you. Lisa and me are on there, too.”

He frowned, sipping his drink. “So...either she was the mastermind behind all this, and she merely missed me at the courthouse…”

“Or someone’s going through a lot of effort to make it look like she was. But they suck at it,” she added. “The last letter and picture came after she was dead. The paper was there, but every sheet of a 500 ream package, the cameras were completely clean - not even Ray could get anything off of it, and the guns there, they matched-” She cut herself off, shaking her head. “They matched the ones that hit you the first time, at least in kind, but the striations are different.”

“Sounds like you had a busy night.”

She snorted, stopping outside his building. “This case is so backwards. Should be a high functioning psychopath of some kind, but we get a shitty crook with all the tools, but wrong, who somehow shot her own motivation, and ended up dead herself. It doesn’t make sense.” She ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes looking everywhere.

“We’ll figure it out, Sara.” Neither of his hands were free, but he wished they were.

Sara’s mouth quirked up as she met his eyes, “Of course we will, but it’s pissing me off in the meantime.”

He chuckled, her easy confidence easing any tension or discomfort from this case - this horrible, terrifying case, which part of him wasn’t even annoyed about, because it brought her to him.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” she said. “You’ve gotta finish Jesse’s clusterfuck of a case.”

“I might work through lunch-”

“Bull. We didn’t have dinner last night. You need to eat.” Her tone left no room for argument, and he honestly didn’t want to. Though prior to her, skipping lunch was a normal occurrence. “I wanna try that Ethiopian place on Cedar.” 

“Fine,” he said, failing to keep his tone neutral.

She winked at him, “See you, Snart.”

“See you, Lance.”

She waited until he got inside, waving at him as he looked back. He went up to his office and unpacked his briefcase, his mind turning on several things unrelated to work.

He was with Sara on that Dillon couldn’t have been the mastermind behind it all, though someone certainly wanted him to think so. That would be because they were getting close to discovering who, and he’d openly accused Hammond that very day. Just moments before Dillon walked in.

It would have to be someone who knew him and his priorities, not that those weren’t easy enough to discern. He spent his time with work, Mick, and Lisa. It would be easy to figure that out.

Sara hadn’t been subtle with Hammond at the funeral, and knew who she was, so her getting a letter delivered to her work wasn’t surprising.

Everything pointed to Hammond, but Sara was right, the timing didn’t work out. Not really.

He rubbed his temples, sagging into his chair momentarily. Then he sighed, straightening and opening up his inbox. The email from Ray sat near the top, and Leonard RSVP’d while he was still thinking of it. At least that was something to look forward to.

* * *

Sara dropped Leonard off that night, making sure he was shut in for the night. They’d ordered pizza for dinner - actually, Sara had ordered it, after seeing Leonard making a fuss about eating without utensils at lunch. She’d teased him mercilessly, grabbing pizza on the way back and forcing him not to use a fork and knife to eat it, despite his complaints it was cleaner that way.

She made a mental note to pick up donuts in the morning and find a hotdog place near his work for lunch tomorrow.

The drive home was quiet. She didn’t even turn on music, still trying to churn over the case and coming up empty repeatedly. It didn’t make sense. No matter which way she turned it, Hammond was the best suspect, Dillon was the obviously guilty one, but neither of them worked, not perfectly.

She parked in the garage, turning off the car and sitting for a few minutes, trying to rub away the migraine that had been present ever since this morning. She’d been getting hourly updates from Ray and Nate, with Amaya checking in every so often, but they couldn’t give her anything new. None of Hammond’s people had moved recently, nor had any significant changes in behavior. But it had to be one of them.

She walked up to the lobby, seeing Gideon behind the desk, dressed to the nines, per usual. Sara walked past her, then paused, an insignificant but persistently irritating thought keeping her from going to her room.

She froze, just beyond Gideon’s desk, until the other woman sighed.

“Can I help you, Miss Lance?”

Sara turned, taking a few steps nearer. “Uh...this party Ray’s throwing.”

“Yes?” Gideon asked, still focused on her computer.

“Is it...you know?”

“All attendees have been vetted and the usual party security measures will be put into place,” Gideon answered, still not looking over.

“No,” Sara said quietly, though that was good information to know, “I meant...it’s like, fancy, right?”

That made Gideon turn, the chair swiveling towards her as she sat back and eyed Sara speculatively. “Yes. Black tie, I believe.”

“So that’s like, dresses and shit?”

“That would be correct.” Gideon frowned slightly.

Sara chewed on her lip, “So, do you know where...I mean, I haven’t exactly had a reason to buy craplike that, and I was wondering, since you’re always put together-”

Gideon stood and Sara broke off.

“Miss Lance, are you asking me to help you pick out a dress?”

“I...yes?”

Gideon grinned, “I would love to.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“You’ll be attending with Mr. Snart?” Gideon asked, a brow arching slightly.

“Yeah, we were both invited, so I’ll just bring him here after work. Leaves him about an hour or so to get his shit ready, and that’s if we leave his work on time.”

“Lovely,” Gideon murmured, her eyes lost in thought. “Well, we should get started.”

“Right now?” Sara asked. “But it’s late, and everything’s closed.”

Gideon laughed, locking the computer and putting them on night-mode, entrance and exit only allowed with a key card and passcode. “We’re not going out.” Then she walked past Sara down the back stairs to their mainframe, which kept the whole building up and running. The door to the mainframe was always locked and warm to the touch, but the door off to the side read ‘Supplies.’

Gideon pushed open the door and Sara paused in the threshold, looking at the massive closet of clothes.

“What the hell?” Sara muttered, stepping in.

“Every outfit used for a mission or purchased with company money,” Gideon said, sounding rather pleased. “And I know a very talented seamstress who would be able to help you with alterations. So have at it. Ball gowns are near the back, left hand side. I’ll join you in a few moments. There’s a changing room in back. Try some on, see what you like.”

With that, Gideon turned and left, the door propped open behind her and her heels clicking away. Sara reminded herself that she’d asked for this, and walked back to the corner, passing suits and work dresses, exotic clothes and traditional garb, bathing suits, clothes for hot weather, cold weather, clothes reinforced with body armor, straight up actual armor, and finally, a long line of ball gowns in the back.

She immediately decided she hated the ones that were tight around the legs. She needed mobility of movement, party or not. Something flowy. A red one caught her eyes, with lace on the sides. And a green one that was shorter on one side. A blue one that was simple and satin. A fourth dress made her pause momentarily, but she didn’t grab it. Stepping into the changing room, she got dressed in the red one, doing up the zipper with a few curious wrigglings of her arms, then opening up the dressing room door to look at the mirror outside.

“That’s a little...bold.”

Sara turned, seeing Amaya, Zari, and Gideon all behind her.

“Yeah,” Zari said, “that’s a dress that tells someone they’re gonna get lucky.” She eyed the ones Sara had already picked. “Try the blue one. That looks promising.”

“I didn’t bring you here to accost her,” Gideon said.

“No, it’s fine. Not feeling this one.” Sara stripped out of it and grabbed the blue one. Amaya came up and helped her fix the satin straps. When it was done, she turned and showed the others.

Gideon was smiling. “I like this one.”

“It’s pretty.” Was Zari’s only comment.

Sara spun. She liked the color, and it was okay, but…

“Try the green one,” Amaya said.

Once again, Sara stripped and pulled on the next one. This was okay. The fit was better. The color was fine. But still.

Sara left it on, her eyes drifting back over to the rack.

“Something caught your eye?” Gideon asked.

She shrugged, but Sara wandered back over to the racks of clothes and grabbed the dress that she’d passed over earlier. She went to the changing room, dropping the green one of the floor and pulling the new one over her head. It was simple - wrapped straps that led to a low, very low, cut back. The front was modest enough, with a flowy diaphanous skirt. She knew before she stepped out that this was the one.

Amaya’s eyes went wide as soon as Sara appeared. “Oh, wow.”

Zari grinned, “Fuck. Yes.”

“Excellent choice,” Gideon said.

“Thanks.” She took another moment in the dress, then got changed, hanging up the other ones and putting the one she chose over her arm.

Gideon took it from her. “I’ll get this dry cleaned for you and have it in your room for Friday. You’ll look beautiful.”

“And you can fit a fucking arsenal beneath that skirt,” Zari added, tossing a wink at her.

Sara grinned, “Damn straight.”

“Gonna be one hell of a party,” Amaya said quietly, heading towards the door.

Sara’s smiled stayed in place until all the others turned to leave. She trailed behind them, her smile gone. One hell of a party.

* * *

Friday night, Leonard straightened his cuffs, fixing the cufflinks Lisa had gotten him one year for Christmas. Sara’s room had been given for him to get dressed in, as Amaya and Gideon had appeared shortly after he and Sara had arrived from work and absconded with her, despite her rolling of the eyes. He’d laughed at her expression, then proceeded to get ready.

This wasn’t a suit he wore often. In fact, the last time he’d worn it, he’d been receiving an award from his firm for distinguished service. That was code for most convictions in a year. Still, it had been a fancy to do, and this was the suit he’d purchased for it. He didn’t really do tuxes, the lines were better for him in this, the blue fabric making his thin figure more intimidating - not that it would accomplish anything with people like Zari, Amaya, and Sara running around - but it made him feel more confident. And it was best suited for special occasions, which this was.

He couldn’t deny that there was a sense of anticipation tonight, as there always was on the night of a big event. He tried not to read much into it, but ever since Monday, there had been so many more brief touches from Sara, played off as unintentional or casual, but they felt like more than that. She stayed longer and longer upon dropping him off at home, sometimes the two of them having a drink before she left, chatting about her childhood in Star City or his early years in the firm. What it was like to have siblings. Her tumultuous friendship with Rip and his complicated history with Mick. They even talked about former lovers, both of them open with who they were.

Even now, getting ready separately gave off the juvenile excitement of prom, which he hadn’t attending and she had been kicked out of. It was stupid and exhilarating and Leonard couldn’t help but wonder what might happen if they weren’t in a working relationship. If this evening had been purely pleasure.

But, it wasn’t. He straightened his tie unnecessarily, knowing that Sara would be working. He wouldn't begrudge her for it, and he knew she was doing it because she cared now, rather than it being her responsibility or her job. But still, he wondered what could happen if she really was his date. If there weren’t any stalkers or hitmen or gangs, and if it was just the two of them.

He checked his appearance in the mirror once more, glancing briefly at the picture of him and Sara, then turned to the door. In the hallway, he saw Amaya just leaving her room, dressed in a vibrant maroon dress that hugged her figure, and a thick, gold pendant around her neck. She looked over at him as he approached and she smiled broadly.

“You look rather dashing,” she said, turning to face him.

He smiled faintly, nodding his head, “And still nowhere near good enough to stand next to you.”

Amaya laughed, “Sara was right, you’ve got a way with words. She’s about done. See you up there.”

Leonard watched her go, leaning against the wall opposite her door. He checked his watch, the silver tracking bracelet bouncing against it, but ten minutes went by without any sign of Sara.

Looking forward to a drink, he knocked on the door. “If you take much longer, Mick’s going to have drained the place dry.”

She laughed inside, “True. One second.”

He didn’t have time to step back as she opened the door and both of them stopped, surprised to see the other so close.

Even if Leonard hadn’t been surprised, he still wouldn’t have moved.

Sara’s hair was characteristically loose, but artfully curled over one shoulder. She was closer to his eye level, heels hidden by the hem of her dress, but it was the dress-

That dress.

And it wasn’t the delicate straps, or the silky looking material, or the way it fit her perfectly, or how the ephemeral skirt was cut in such a way that it always appeared to be moving, or how it revealed just enough and yet  _ not- _

It was the color.

Pure, simple white.

He realized he’d stared too long when she shifted uncomfortably in front of him.

“Is it okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” Leonard said immediately. “Yes, you look…” he trailed off, his apparently infamous way with words becoming snarled and convoluted when it came to her. “You look good in white.”

She smirked, red lips twisting into a familiar smile. “Thanks, hotshot. You’re definitely earning the hot part in that suit. Well done.”

He chuckled, “Thanks. Have to keep up with you.”

“You think I’m hot?” she asked, echoing him from what felt like years ago.

“That’s not what I said.” Leonard waited until she looked behind her to shut the door. “But yes, I do.”

She looked back at him, smiling again. “Come on, let’s get to that bar.”

Letting her take the lead, per usual, Leonard nearly choked when he caught sight of the back of the dress. Or rather, the lack of. Miles of pale skin stretched all the way from her shoulders to the small of her back. His hand immediately clenched into a fist so as not to try and touch her. If he started, he may not stop.

* * *

The elevator ride was quiet and strangely tense for Sara. Leonard’s reaction to her appearance had been what she’d been hoping for, even if she hadn’t allowed herself to consider it, but she wasn’t entirely expecting the turnabout.

She knew he wore suits. Expensive, fancy fucking suits day in and day out, but there was something about this particular suit that made her stomach turn and her skin flame. Maybe it was the fit over the broad shoulders that made them seem wider and stronger. Maybe it was the contrast of the navy and white striped shirt - that seemed too tight, should it be that tight? - against the perfectly cobalt blue of the suit. Maybe it was the tie, that fucking navy tie that was so perfectly tucked into the jacket and begged for her to mess it up. Or maybe-

Maybe it was just because it was Leonard fucking Snart.

Whatever the reason, she had to concentrate not to look at him the entire ride up to the top floor, and the hand away from him fidgeted with the blade hidden on her thigh. Rarely did she curse her abilities, but she could feel Leonard standing close to her, smell his heady cologne in the air, hear the sound of his measured breaths and the near silent tick of his watch. She made the mistake of looking over just before the elevator opened, and found that Leonard’s darkened blue eyes were on her, unabashedly staring, and she couldn’t look away, and she licked her suddenly dry lips-

The door dinged open.

They both looked away, whatever spell broken as they were interrupted by music and conversation from outside the doors. Sara, forcing a smile, stepped out of the elevator, taking in a breath of air that wasn’t flavored with Leonard and finding her head cleared slightly. Immediately spotting the bar, she led the way, taking in the sights and making sure Leonard was nearby at all times.

Ray had really outdone himself. The top floor was rarely used, as it was mostly windows and got way too much sun during the day, not to mention making them visible to anyone looking in. But it led to an amazing view of the city at night, and Sara knew the glass was bulletproof. Blue and red balloons hung in clusters around the room, red streamers hanging rather tastefully from the ceiling. A young man in a suit that almost rivaled Leonard’s was singing, a full band backing him, not too loud to drown out the conversation, but enough for the dancers in the center of the room. Waiters carrying flutes of champagne and finger foods wandered around, offering them to anyone. The patio doors were open, leading out to a garden lit up with fairy lights and giving some fresh, cool air to those inside.

It was pretty fantastic.

Sara smiled at Zari and Amaya from across the room, waving at them through the crowd of people she’d only seen on television. She recognized most of them, politicians, other lawyers, some high ranking law enforcement and their spouses, and though Gideon had vetted each of them, Sara still remained vigilant.

“Hey, guys!”

Sara braced herself, turning to see Ray Palmer, head of Palmer Tech and their own personal tech support. His grin was only matched by his enthusiasm, and Sara had to keep reminding herself that he meant well.

“Hey, Ray,” she said, giving him a brief hug, because that’s just what you did with Ray. “Great party.”

“Thanks!” He grinned. “I’m just glad you could make it.” He looked at Leonard. “Mr. Snart, I’ve followed your cases for several years, and I have to say, you are the most positive force for change in this city.”

Leonard seemed a little taken aback, but smiled. “Thanks. That means a lot, especially from someone whose work has changed the face of technology as we know it.”

He laughed, no arrogance, just exuberance, “I know! Just wait to you see what we’re working on next. But, what I wanted to say was, do you want to meet for lunch some time when all this quiets down? I’d love to pick your brain on the prison system and see what changes we could make to some of the software we use there, along with a few ideas I’ve got for a better polygraph. One that’s actually admissible in courtrooms.”

Sara laughed as Leonard simply stared at Ray for a moment, apparently trying to catch up with the genius’s train of thought.

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.”

“Wonderful!” Ray said, “Now, enjoy the party. People need to start dancing soon.” He threw finger guns at the two of them. “See you later!”

Leonard stared after him for a long moment. “What just happened.”

Sara laughed, “You met Ray. Now you see what I meant when I said we couldn’t get rid of him. You talked to him for two seconds and have a lunch meeting.”

He shook his head, “Let’s get those drinks. I need one after-”

“Hey, Lenny. You sure pick the swankiest of parties.”

Sara turned, seeing Lisa behind them.

Leonard smiled, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek. “You look great, Lis.”

Sara had to admit, she did, even if the red dress was a little too tight. Her makeup and hair were on point, though. Sara smiled at her, “Nice to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too,” Lisa said. “Did you get to ride in the fancy secret elevator? All the plebs had to use the stairs outside.”

Leonard laughed, “Yes, we did.”

Lisa glanced at Sara, her smile got a little sharper. Lisa looked at Leonard, “Mind if I steal your date for a sec?”

Sara smiled when Leonard looked at her, easing his concern and confusion. “I’ll find you, no worries.”

“See you at the bar.”

Sara watched him go, then looked at Lisa. The smile had faded, irritation and anger in her eyes. “What the hell are you doing? Dillon almost put a bullet in him.”

“I know. But she didn’t-”

“You need to get your head out of your ass and actually look out for my brother. If you weren’t half in love with him-”

“I am  _ not  _ half in _ - _ ”

“Fully then, what-fucking-ever,” Lisa snapped. “You’re supposed to protect him.”

“I am protecting him,” Sara said, ignoring the other comment.

“You let her get within feet of him.”

Sara stepped in a little closer. “Look, I’m doing everything I can to protect Leonard. I promise. Whatever you think my feelings are, they aren’t going to get in the way of the job.”

“And is this just a job?” Lisa countered, nodding behind her.

Sara turned instinctively, looking over her shoulder. She caught sight of Leonard at the edge of the bar, his eyes sweeping across the dance floor, tumbler held loosely in his fingers. Zari was next to him, and the two of them were chatting easily about something that made Zari laugh. Leonard’s eyes caught Sara’s as Zari took a drink, and he smirked slightly at her.

Sara couldn’t help her smile in response, but managed to hold back her flinch when Lisa quietly spoke. “Knew it.”

Sara looked back at her.

“Get it under control,” Lisa hissed. “Or I’ll find someone who can.” She turned on her heel and walked away, disappearing between other guests.

Sara watched her go, taking a minute to gather her composure. She told herself that Lisa wasn’t right. Her emotions weren’t making her shit at her job, this job was just shit, and made no sense, but part of her wondered if maybe she had a point. If she wasn’t so caught up in him, would she have seen the photographer outside the courthouse…?

Sara exhaled slowly, then turned and walked towards the bar. Leonard caught her approach, ordering something for her. Sara slid into the seat next to him, taking the glass from the bartender with a thanks.

Leonard stared at her for a moment, that concerned line appearing between his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Sara said.

“Are you sure?”

She was saved from answering when Mick appeared, managing to scrounge up slacks, a shirt broad enough to cover his chest, and a decent vest. No jacket, and the sleeves were rolled up, but he’d made an effort.

“Hey,” he rumbled, just holding up a finger to the bartender. Clearly familiar with Mick already, the bartender got a bottle and a much larger glass than Sara or Leonard had.

“Looking good, Mick,” Sara said.

Mick grunted, looking her up and down. “Nice.”

Sara laughed, taking it as the compliment it was meant. “What’re you drinking?”

“Everything,” muttered the bartender.

Mick leaned against the bar, looking out over the party. “Got a nice place. And you do some decent work.” He took a deep swig of his drink and put the glass down, looking at Sara. “You guys hiring, or what?”

Leonard shot a glance at Sara, the smile both annoyed and unsurprised. Sara shrugged, “We’re always looking for new people. Means you have to work with a team, though.”

“If you can manage, I think I’ll be fine,” Mick said, his eyes cutting over to her.

Sara agreed with a smile. “I’ll give Rip your number. We’ll see what we can do.”

With that, Mick pushed off the bar and left, leaving Sara under Leonard gaze.

“You just stole my investigator,” he muttered.

“I didn’t do anything. Besides, all that means is that you’ll have to hang out here. Is that so bad?” she asked before she could stop herself.

Leonard stared at her for a long moment, then admitted, “No. That’s not so bad.”

The music was good, so it was no surprise when Lisa came bouncing up, a polite smile for Sara, then asked Leonard, “Wanna dance?”

He was clearly reluctant, but like everything else, he did it for her. Rolling his eyes as he left, he and Lisa went to the dance floor, where he guided her rather well for someone who seemed to dislike dancing. Sara sat back in her seat and sipped her drink, keeping her eyes open.

“I’m surprised not to see you on the dance floor.”

Sara didn’t flinch, having heard Rip’s characteristic footsteps. “Technically, I’m working.”

“No rest for the wicked, then?” he said, taking the seat next to her.

Smiling, Sara retorted, “Is that why you always look exhausted?”

“I thought that would have been obvious.”

He cleaned up nicely, their captain. Not as nice as some, but nice enough. Sara caught several unattached young ladies, and several unattached young men, casting glances over at him, the accent a particular draw.

“How have you been holding up?” he asked.

“Fine. Just want to figure this shitstorm out,” Sara said, draining her glass.

“You seem to be working well with Mr. Snart.” Sara glanced over at Rip at the comment, but he continued, “I was thinking of asking him to remain on retainer.”

“How so?”

Rip chuckled, “You and I both know the work we do isn’t always above board, and the company’s doled out a hefty sum to keep several of our clients and associates out of prison.” He looked pointedly at her. “It would be helpful to have a lawyer such as Mr. Snart to defend us when needed.”

“I could see that,” she said, ordering another.

“Do you have an objection?”

Sara shook her head, “No. Not at all. He’s a kickass lawyer. A good man. We’d be lucky to have him.”

“As he’s lucky to have us,” Rip added quietly.

Sara glanced at him sharply, but he was looking at the dance floor. He stood and merely added, “Enjoy the party,” and walked off, in that infuriating, enigmatic way of his.

Sara glared after him, seeing Zari dragging an acquaintance of the Legends, John Constantine, onto the dance floor. Amaya and Mick were in one corner, both of them putting back several large glasses. Nate Heywood and Ray were engaged in a discussion that involved three shrimp cocktails and an olive as necessary props. Gideon stalked across the floor and interrupted Rip in the middle of a conversation, before he grinned and offered her his arm and led her to the dance floor. They passed right by Lisa and Leonard, who spun in such a way that Leonard was able to wink at Sara across the room.

She smiled, finishing her drink. If it weren’t for the stalker, this might be one of the best nights of her life.

As it was, stalkers and potential murder were pretty regular for her, so it was damn close to being perfect. She caught Leonard’s eyes again, smiling, feeling warmth entirely unrelated to the alcohol filling her.

* * *

Leonard finally escaped from Nate and Ray - how there could be two people as enthusiastic as Ray, he’d never know.

“Remember, Leonard. Thursday nights. You’ll love it,” Nate promised, walking away.

As strange as it was, Leonard was intrigued. Nate wanted him to join his game nights with Ray, Rip, John, and Zari, and he found that he was interested in it. He’d also been roped into that lunch with Ray, and a business meeting with Rip sometime after his case closed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a standing appointment with anyone other than a client, Mick, or Lisa.

Still, as much as he enjoyed the new opportunities, he found himself searching to room for one person in particular. He’d kept being pulled into conversations, dancing with Lisa, Amaya, and Gideon on a few occasions, and distracted with watching Mick, Constantine, and Zari have a debate over whether vampires were allergic or poisoned by the sun. It was a little much. Especially when all he wanted to do was be with-

“Get roped into game night?”

Leonard turned, not entirely surprised that Sara had managed to catch him unaware. “Apparently.”

“They’re a good bunch. I’ve joined in a couple times,” she admitted. “It was more fun than I thought it’d be.”

“I’ll admit, I’m interested.” He smiled, taking the glass she offered. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, hotshot.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the music shifting to something a little slower and softer.

“Haven’t seen you dancing,” he observed, looking down at her. He’d noticed several people clearly ask, but she’d said no to all of them.

Sara smiled, not looking at him. “I’m also working, remember?”

“Thought this was business and pleasure.”

“It is. But I can’t go fucking dance if it means leaving you here-”

“Then dance with me,” he said, interrupting her.

She hesitated upon looking up at him, one of the first times he’d seen her hesitate with anything. And the expression on her face was almost cautious for a moment. But it vanished, replaced with a grin. “Okay.”

There was part of him that was still surprised when she said yes. But he took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. Keeping hold of her, he spun her around gently, placing his other hand along the small of her back. He’d forgotten for a moment about the dress, and he had to take a breath as his fingers touched bare skin.

The piano began, sounding vaguely familiar. They began swaying, a comfortable distance between the two of them. He found his gaze wandering over the crowd, looking everywhere but the woman in his arms, but he couldn’t keep that up. Not for long.

He looked down, seeing Sara just looking up at him. The two of them stayed there for a moment, and he wasn’t certain who moved first, suddenly that friendly distance was gone, and he’d pulled her closer, and she’d stepped in, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. There they swayed, cheek to cheek, hip to hip, chest to chest.

It had been two weeks, and he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it.

Leonard inhaled deeply, the smell of metal and vanilla emanating up from Sara. He smiled to himself, recalling the donuts she’d presented so proudly to him the other morning, that wicked grin on her face. She was constantly challenging him, in his work habits, his eating habits, his negative thoughts about himself. She challenged him to be better in every way.

Her shocked and pained face as she stole a bite of his Indian food, the spice hitting her immediately, and her laughter afterwards. The only woman he’d ever known who could take on armed killers and mobsters, yet flinch at the sight of vindaloo. That openness she had with him about everything she thought and felt.

Her tiny smile as she played the piano at his house, and he remembered now, this was the song she’d been playing. The easy familiarity she had in his home and the sight of his picture in her home. They both belonged somewhere, even if it wasn’t so much a place, as it was a person.

Sara turned her head to rest her cheek against his chest, and Leonard’s quiet, cold heart gave a little stutter as his entire world shifted.

How did he not see this coming?

* * *

Sara sighed inaudibly, an unfamiliar sense of comfort sliding into her bloodstream like a morphine drip. She was supposed to be protecting him, but every day she felt like it was a little more the reverse. Leonard gave her a barrier between her and the horrible things in both of their lives. Not because they were ignoring it, but because he made it clear they were in this together.

A hum from his chest vibrated beneath her cheek and she smiled, remembering how he hummed the same portion of a song they’d both heard from a passing car for nearly two days straight. Little snippets of music that got stuck in his head and he continuously shared with everyone nearby.

She thought about that annoyed expression he gave her every time she did something she probably shouldn’t, the one that wasn’t really annoyed, but pretending to be for the sake of saving face. The one that she got when she told people what he wanted to say, but wouldn’t. The one she got when she threatened Hammond, before he’d laughed in the car.

His infuriating way of letting his work consume him, that wasn’t infuriating enough, because she knew he just cared that much about putting bad people away, so no one would have to suffer like he had. How he let people believe the worst of him, because sometimes he thought he deserved it, and how she could get him to admit that he was worth more.

The comfort she felt in his home, when he’d worn a sweater and she’d lounged on his couch and they talked about the case and his family, and eaten Chinese food and made a mess. How it wasn’t home, not like in Star City, but that it could be, maybe. Because it had him in it.

She remembered his laugh, and the way Mick had glanced at her in surprise tonight, when she’d managed to draw it out of him, and the pride she felt for making him laugh when no one else could.

The idea that she wanted to make him laugh everyday.

And fuck, maybe this had been inevitable, the two of them, but she hadn’t anticipated it to happen so quickly, and without concern or panic, because it was Leonard and-

Jesus, she was so fucking screwed.

Still, that didn’t stop her from pressing just a little bit closer. Leonard’s hand was splayed at the small of her back and she felt like her skin was on fire. Her breathing hitched slightly, and she closed her eyes, letting herself have this moment before they went back to stalkers and murders.

“Sara,” he murmured in her ear.

She looked up, finding Leonard’s eyes were blown out, fixed on her. The expression on his face was one she hadn’t seen before, a hopeful anticipation, tempered beneath his courtroom mask. But she could nearly see his thoughts mirroring hers.

Before either of them said anything more, the song ended, and they stepped back from one another quickly, Sara’s skin feeling cold in the absence of his hands. Applause filled the room as the singer bowed and Sara and Leonard joined in, consciously not looking at one another.

They silently walked towards the bar, ordering two of the same thing, before Sara found the courage to look him in the eye. Nothing had happened, but everything had changed in those two minutes.

Leonard was still looking at her, his expression unchanged from what it had been.

Sara smiled and he seemed to let go of his restraint, taking her hand.

“I think I’ve had enough dancing for tonight,” he said, leaning to speak in her ear.

“Party’s winding down anyway,” she responded.

It was true, crowds were milling around, heading downstairs to the parking lot. They joined the group, neither of them speaking, even though with every brush of his hand against her arm, Sara was finding it harder and harder to maintain normalcy.

They reached the parking lot, weaving through the cars in the Legends’ particular parking area, and Leonard’s hand found hers, their fingers intertwining like they’d done this a thousand times before. Sara smiled to herself and looked down at their hands, this simple thing making her goddamn traitorous heart flip in her chest.

When she heard the beep, she looked up, but it was too late to do anything but watch as the car exploded in front of them.


	9. Chapter 9

Leonard had been in a car accident once. His mother had been driving him and Lisa to school when he was in fifth or sixth grade. It had been one of her bad days, and Leonard had tried to allow her to let them walk to school. But it was cold, and the sky was still dark, even at eight in the morning, so she’d insisted, though it had taken all her effort to get out of bed. They’d been close to the school when they hit some black ice. His mother had never even seen it. They slid directly into an intersection and were t-boned by a sedan crossing. Then, they’d spun up onto the median with a metallic shriek.

He remembered the doctors and the poking and prodding that came afterward. The visits from the Department of Child Services in the hospital. He could remember a little further back to the ambulance ride to the hospital. He even remembered bits and pieces of the emergency response teams cutting him and Lisa out of their seatbelts. But he could never remember the immediate aftermath, not well. He could vaguely hear screaming, a cottened pressure around him that kept him from feeling his injuries too clearly, a numbness before the pain.

Like now, if he tried, he could still only hear that muffled screaming, and feel that thick pressure around him...but it hadn’t been raining that day, so why did he feel water…?

He forced his eyes open, the action bringing the new pain front and center. Ash trickled down around him, mixing with the rain that came pouring down, not quite enough to smother the fire that burned several yards away, but drowning a few of the smaller ones.

Coughing, he forced himself to sit up, but was stopped midway through rising, a firm hand on his shoulder keeping him down low. Craning his neck, he saw Sara kneeling at his side, a gun in hand - where had that been?

“Don’t move, not yet,” she said, her voice hoarse. There were streaks on the white dress, ash and something a little redder. “How does your neck feel? Head?”

“I’m fine,” he croaked.

She looked at him, and he could see how pale she was, even beneath the ash that covered her face. “Len, a concussion-”

“I know what a concussion feels like, Sara.” He pushed her arm away and leaned up on one elbow. “What happened?”

“Car bomb,” she said, her eyes still roving restlessly around the lot. There were off to one edge.

“Lisa? Mick?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

He made to stand up, but the grabbed his arm, exerting enough pressure to keep him in place and not a bit more.

“That was our fucking car, Snart. I have to get you out of here.”

“Lisa-”

“Zari is on it. Mick will be taken care of, but I need to get you away from here.”

He wanted to argue with her, but Sara finally looked him in the eye.

“Len, please.”

He relented. “Fine.”

She stood and he noticed a faint wince. His chest constricted even further, “Sara-”

“Stay close and stay down.”

He did, hovering next to her. The ringing in his ears was fading, leaving behind the sound of screams, and someone crying. There were shouts, trying to establish order in the chaos, but it wasn’t taking yet.

“Why don’t we go back inside?” he asked, seeing where she was leading him.

“Because the bomb was here,” she said, her voice emotionless. “It wasn’t on the car before we got here, meaning it was put on sometime after. Logically, that means-”

“It was someone at the party.”

Sara gave him a brief nod. She unlocked the bag on the back of a motorcycle, handing him a jacket almost identical to her usual one. “Might be a bit tight, but it’s kevlar. And here,” she passed him a helmet. “Put it on.”

“Where’s yours?” he asked.

She just stared at him. “Hurry up.” She grabbed her phone, from where, Leonard had no clue, and made a call.

“Rip, it’s me. I’m getting Leonard out of the area. Going back to his place. I’ll need someone to secure it as soon as possible. I’ve got my bag. Get back to me as soon as you can.”

Leonard got the helmet on and Sara nodded, getting onto the bike. “Come on.”

He did, and his hands hovered, not entirely sure what to do.

“Hold on.”

The bike lurched beneath him and he grabbed her waist, holding on tightly as Sara peeled out of the parking lot and onto the city streets. Behind him, the fires and screams still rose up and Leonard stared ahead, wondering who they were abandoning.

* * *

Cold rain stinging her face, Sara sped them through the streets of Central City, taking back streets and backtracking until her fingers were frozen and her lips blue, then she did it for a little bit longer before getting in sight of Leonard’s building.

How the fuck did she not see this coming?

She parked around the back of Leonard’s building, letting him get off the bike and find his bearings. She checked her phone, seeing a text from Rip.

**Don’t know how this happened yet. Your car, remote detonated. Ray, Amaya, and Nate accounted for. Still waiting on the others.**

She texted back, not wanting to worry Leonard yet.  **The second you have word on Mick and Lisa, call.**

**Of course. Stay safe.**

Sara grabbed the bag from the other side of her bike, taking the helmet from Leonard, but gesturing for him to leave the jacket on for now. He did, following her silently up the stairs to his apartment. Sara wasn’t going to risk the elevator, not tonight. Unlocking his door with her key, she had him wait in the kitchen while she did a thorough sweep of the entire apartment, not taking any chances. It was clean.

Locking the door behind them, Sara breathed a sigh of relief. Then she turned to Leonard. “Are you okay?”

He took off the jacket, with a sharp look. “Is there any word on Lisa and Mick?”

She didn’t say anything.

“Then I’m not okay.” He hung her jacket over the back of a chair, “If it wasn’t for me-”

“No,” Sara said, interrupting him and stepping closer. “No, don’t even fucking start. This isn’t your fault. This is the fault of some psychopath. You aren’t why this is happening - they are. None of this is on you. Not one bit.”

He didn’t answer, but lifted his eyes.

“Now, are you okay?” she asked again, putting her hand on his arm and trying to see any point of injury.

He shifted a little, moving his shoulders and arms. “I’m fine.”

She glared at him.

“Really, Sara. Sore, but I’m okay. You?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding.”

She looked down, seeing red spots on her dress. Suppressing a completely unreasonable sense of sorrow over losing the dress, she ran a hand over the spots. “Just gravel. It’s fine.”

If it wasn’t the blood that ruined it, the rain would have. Both of them were soaked through, the rain picking up outside and sliding down in great sheets over the windows. Lightning crackled in the distance and Sara imagined she could see a faint glow from the car fire outside the Legends building. She took a step towards the glass, her gaze dropping to the sidewalk, the rain forcing people inside and out of the way. There was no one outside, so no immediate danger.

“If you want,” she said, “you can take a shower. I’ll wait for Rip’s call.”

“You’re not leaving?” he asked, following her.

Sara shook her head. “No. If Legends has been compromised, I can’t. One, the danger to you is still there. Two, if they’ve attacked Legends once, they might do it again. I can’t risk being caught in transit or in another shitstorm like what happened. So,” she turned around, “guess we’re roomies for a bit.” She played it off casually, but remembered how against it he’d been the first time it had been brought up-

“That’s fine,” he answered, a little closer. “And I’m not going anywhere until I know if Lisa’s alright.”

She wasn’t surprised by his answer, feeling the same way herself, wet dress or not. Then she glanced at him. “Drink, then?”

“Why not?” he muttered, taking a seat at the piano.

Heading into the kitchen, Sara opened up one of the cabinets, taking a moment to look at the marks on her dress again. She hadn’t been entirely sure when she’d told Leonard, but none of them were serious. Neither of them had been hurt, and that was fucking lucky.

Except she didn’t believe in luck.

Rip had said it was remote detonated, which means someone was watching them head to the car and decided to set it off early. Was that intentional? That would leave them scared. Send them running. Panicking. Except she hadn’t done that. They were safe here. A warning, then? Maybe the attacker couldn’t see them? Bad timing?

Nonetheless, remotes didn’t work all that far away. The attacker had to have been at the party.

Sara grabbed two crystal tumblers and the scotch Leonard had nearly killed the other night. Pouring a generous measure into each, she went back into the living room as Leonard started playing something on the piano.

It wasn’t something she’d heard before, but it was slow and melancholy. To fit with the mood, she supposed. She grabbed a coaster off the coffee table and put his drink on the piano.

“Thank you,” he said, never stopping in his playing.

“Sure.” She stood off to the side, watching his hands move across the keys far easier than hers had. He barely seemed to be thinking about it as he played. She sipped the scotch, holding it in her mouth to make it burn, then turning back to the window.

She stared out at the glass, not seeing anything but her own reflection. She stared back at herself; wet, bedraggled hair, dragging white dress streaked with rain and ash. She was a fucking disaster. A goddamn embarrassment.

She should’ve seen the bomb coming. She should have been more observant. She shouldn’t have forgotten her goal, not even for a second.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

The piano paused, and she heard the ice clink against the glass. “What for?” he asked.

“I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve been more careful, and we got fucking lucky, because-”

“Sara.” She heard him stand and walk towards her, seeing his reflection in the glass as he approached her, tumbler in hand.

She didn’t turn, but met his eyes in the reflection as he stopped behind her.

“It’s like you said, isn’t it?” he said quietly. “This isn’t your fault. It’s theirs. They’re doing this and we can’t anticipate what’s going to happen, because none of this makes sense. They attacked us in your home. The place you’re supposed to feel safe. There were cops, and Legends, and security, and no one saw this coming. It isn’t your fault. You have nothing to sorry for.”

She looked away from his reflection, not entirely convinced, but feeling slightly better. He was right. And it was something Rip had been trying to get her to understand for a long time - she couldn’t control everything. And she’d done everything by the book. She’d followed the rules and her judgment, and they were both okay, which meant she was doing something right.

Exhaling slowly, she took a long sip of her drink. Glancing at the phone in her hand once more, anxious to hear from Rip, she turned, finding Leonard directly behind her.

His eyes flickered up to hers. The worry that had been in them earlier easing somewhat. He didn’t step back, tucking a piece of her damp hair behind her ear.

Sara shivered slightly, but didn’t step away. She hated to admit it, but she wished they were just back at that dance. Leonard’s arm around her, holding her tightly against him. She wanted that again, but closer and a bit more private. Instead of trying to drive him home, she wished they’d just snuck off to her room and…

Leonard didn’t drop his hand, his thumb running over her cheek lightly, so lightly it didn’t even feel like it was happening. But it was, and she didn’t want it to stop. Not this time.

She took a half step nearer, so close she could feel the heat from Leonard skin, smell the scotch on his breath. There was a tiny, tiny voice, that sounded an awful lot like Lisa, that was telling her this was a bad idea, but she silenced it, beyond caring, beyond considering, and jumping into this with both feet and no life jacket. She heard Leonard’s breath hitch slightly as she tilted her face up, and he smiled faintly, leaning down-

Sara’s phone rang.

She and Leonard both jumped, automatically moving away from one another.

“Fuck,” she muttered. She glanced at the display, seeing Rip’s name. Her annoyance at being interrupted vanished and she answered immediately.

“Is everyone okay?” she asked, putting the phone on speaker.

Rip sounded tired, but calm.  _ “Miss Snart and Mr. Rory are fine.” _ Leonard breathed out a sigh of relief, putting his glass on the counter and smiling a little easier.  _ “Everyone is okay. Zari had taken Mick and Lisa to the safehouse on 16th, so we couldn’t track their phones until she stepped out. Everyone is okay. One of the drivers is in the hospital, but he’s expected to make a full recovery.” _

“Thank you,” Sara said, relief pouring into her stomach. She took it off speaker and raised it to her ear again. “Seriously, Rip. Thanks.”

_ “I’ll have security on the apartment and work by Monday, but not until then.” _

“That’s fine. I’ve got my bag. I’ll stay.” Her eyes tracked Leonard in the kitchen, washing out his glass.

_ “If you don’t feel up to it, myself or Miss Jiwe may be able-” _

“I’ve got it, Rip.”

_ “Be careful, Miss Lance,” _ Rip said quietly.

“Always am.”

_ “Liar.” _

“Bye.”

_ “Goodbye.” _

She hung up, looking at Leonard. “Everyone’s okay.”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Good.”

They stared at one another for a moment, neither of them making a move. Rip’s call, though necessary and appreciated, also had kind of put a hold on their...moment.

Sara smiled, then stepped back from the kitchen. “We should get cleaned up. Get some rest.”

“Right,” he said quietly. “Spare room is down here.” He grabbed her bag from the hall and walked her to a room she’d been in every night since she started working, but she appreciated the gesture.

The queen bed looked comfortable when Sara stepped in, the grey comforter soft and thick. The lights were off, but enough light came from the hallway to see by.

“Towels are in the guest bathroom, in the closet,” he said, placing her bag on the floor. “If you need anything-”

“I know where you are,” Sara said, smiling.

He chuckled faintly. “Of course. Goodnight, Sara.”

“Goodnight, Len,” she said.

Stepping to the door, Leonard made to close it behind him, but hesitated. That hesitation was almost her undoing, but he shook his head and closed the door with a click.

Sara exhaled slowly, the sound shaking in the dark.

* * *

Leonard shut his bedroom door a little harder than necessary. Leaning against it, he loosened his tie with on hand, undoing the top button.

They’d been so close…

He shed his jacket, praying his dry cleaner could rescue it. Undoing his cuffs and putting his cufflinks in their usual tray, he caught sight of himself in his window, the reflection clear against the rain.

Whatever these...feelings with Sara were, they were consuming every rational thought he had. He should’ve been terrified about Mick and Lisa, and he had been, but not enough to keep him from touching her. He closed his eyes, the memory of Sara up against him at the dance lighting up his skin. What he wouldn’t give for another chance.

Well, what was stopping him now?

His doubts appeared and vanished in a matter of seconds.

He was just a job - no, they were closer and she’d said as much.

She didn’t feel the same way - he saw the way she leaned up to him just now.

They shouldn’t get distracted - they were safe and secure tonight.

It was a risk - sure, but what worthwhile things weren’t?

He’d never felt this way about anyone before and he was tired of everything else getting in the way. Tonight, it was just the two of them, and if he didn’t take a chance, he was going to regret it forever.

Making up his mind, he stalked to the door, throwing it open-

To see Sara on the other side, her hand raised to knock.

Sara’s eyes darted over him, taking in all the tiny details that only she noticed, before meeting his. He swallowed, her bright blue almost completely lost in black.

Even soaked and ash-streaked, she had to be the most beautiful woman in the world.

Her hair was starting to come down, clumped together in wet strands. The white dress clung to her tightly, still dirtied from the explosion, but she’d thrown off the heels, leaving her almost head and shoulders shorter than him. He was struck by how tiny she really was. All that raw power compressed into such a small, striking, sarcastic, foul-mouthed package.

His life had been so simple before her. He had his work. His sister. Mick. Now, he had...friends. A social life. Plans. His life now was so much louder, more dangerous, messier, more complicated-

Better.

Leonard started down at her for a long moment, his hands tight on the handle and the frame, sure but uncertain on how to get there.

Then Sara, brave and brilliant Sara, said, “I want this. Do you?”

“Yes,” he answered immediately.

“Thank fucking god,” she muttered, grabbing his tie and pulling him towards her.

She didn’t need to pull, he was halfway towards her already. One arm wrapped around her waist, her bare skin cool from the wet and the rain, but still lighting him on fire. He had the presence of mind to pull her into the room and shut the door behind her, before he was completely lost.

Sara’s shoulders knocked back into the door as Leonard pressed against her. She laughed breathlessly, the sound disappearing between his lips, the taste of scotch and copper harsh and addictive on his tongue, even as her lips caught his gently. And that was everything with Sara - an external rush that belied her good heart.

He wove his free hand into her hair, holding her against him, not that her grip on his tie was relenting at all. He kissed her with everything he’d been holding back, teeth scraping, rough kisses, soothed with softer, slower ones. When he broke away for breath, Sara’s came just as harshly, her hands running over his face and shoulders. Her lips were red and swollen, and twisted into that familiar, fantastic smirk.

“I knew you’d be amazing,” she murmured.

He laughed, that invincible feeling that came with the courtroom coming in full force as he looked at her. “Oh, Sara,” he said quietly, pressing another kiss against her smiling mouth. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Pulling her hands away from his tie, Leonard dropped to his knees in front of her.

Sara leaned her head back against the door with a faint thud. “Motherfucker,” she whispered.

He ran his hands up along her ankles, beneath the white dress. It fell away on one side, the slit that had been hidden when the skirt was dry and flowing revealed in the heavier lines. Leonard continued to push up, his mouth following the path his hands took, every inch revealing toned, golden skin, marked and crossed with scars. Midway along her thigh, Leonard encountered fabric. He sat back on his heels slightly, glancing at the thigh holster holding three knives.

“Your formal holster?” he asked, sliding his fingers along the back to unbuckle it.

She laughed, “Only the best for you.”

He liked the sound of that, dropping the holster to the side before resuming his journey. Sara shivered beneath him, her hands running over the top of his head.

“How’s your balance?” he asked against her skin.

“What-fuck!”

Leonard slid one hand underneath the back of her knee, lifting it over his shoulder. He grabbed her other hip with his free hand, keeping her steady.

“I’ve got you,” he promised. Pulling down the white - god, she looked good in white - scrap of fabric keeping her from view, he dove in.

This was one of his favorite things to do. Not necessarily because he enjoyed it, though that was part of it, but because it was difficult to do well, and he’d always excelled at the difficult. He thrived on accomplishing what people said was impossible, and being both good at this and willing to do it made it impossible for most people. It made him unforgettable.

Right now, it was his favorite thing because he got a rush from hearing Sara make the sounds she was making with his name and her gasps, from feeling the way her hands scrabbled for a grip on his head or shoulders and finding nothing to keep her from falling, from tasting the honesty of her desire for him, from seeing gold skin shivering beneath his lips and hands, this powerful, controlled woman losing her composure when it came to him. And when she cried out, it was his name that fell from her lips.

He could listen to that sound forever.

Leonard waited, giving her a moment until the tremors slowed somewhat, dropping her leg off of his shoulder before rising. She opened her eyes as he stood, and he felt another thrill of accomplishment as he saw dazed blue.

He chuckled and she refocused slightly, glaring at him with another smirk. “You look proud,” she said.

“Oh, I am.”

She kissed him fiercely, bringing him back to the brink he’d been hanging over in mere seconds. She turned them around, his back against the door now and her pressing against him. One hand tangled in her hair again, those golden strands wrapped around his fingers, as he kissed every part of her he could reach, her lips, her face, her neck, her shoulders. She grabbed his hands from where they’d settled on her waist and drew them up, and up, over her hips and up her sides, before she deposited them on the thin straps on top of her shoulders.

For all his bravado, he felt his hands tremor as he pushed the straps gently down over her shoulders, following them down over her wrists, and then back up to her shoulders before he stepped back enough to see her fully.

He swallowed, his eyes catching everything. Every smooth inch, every scarred memory, every blemish that he didn’t pretend not to see, because each mark made her who she was. This fierce, hilarious, kind hearted, protective woman, and he wouldn’t trade her for the world. “Perfect.”

“Bullshit,” she responded, not shy, but not oblivious to what she saw as her imperfections.

“Perfect,” he repeated, his arms sliding around her. If she didn’t believe him, he’d be happy to tell her every day for the rest of his life, if she’d let him.

That thought bounced in his head, making him draw back for a moment. But, Sara’s lips were far more important, so he pushed it aside to deal with later.

But in his heart, he knew it was too late.

* * *

Sara shivered, a combination of cold, desire, and aftershocks still rolling through her. Her bare skin was against Leonard’s wet suit, and she pulled away from him, stepping back toward his bed.

“Too many clothes.” She held onto the edge of the tie, undoing the knot and sliding the fabric from beneath the collar before letting it fall to the floor. Leonard followed her, his eyes dark, as he started undoing the buttons on his shirt, never looking away from her.

Perfect, he’d said.

She’d been called beautiful by lovers before, but she’d always written it off as pillow talk. Because even if there were qualities about her that made her memorable, she wasn’t beautiful. She was too scarred and too fucked up and too angry to be beautiful.

But he’d called her perfect.

Just perfect, or perfect for him?

Because she very much preferred one of those options over the other.

He pulled his shirt away and threw it to the side, his arms back around her before it hit the floor. Skin pressed against skin and she was no longer cold, everything was hot, her skin, his breath, his hands, everything felt like flames licking against her skin, and if it was going to consume her, she’d die happy. Her arms went around his neck, the groan that escaped his lips muffled by her mouth. She was pleased - he’d driven her crazy in mere minutes, it was only fair she could do the same.

With his arm around her back, he lowered her to the bed, the plush comforter cool, but not cold. Leonard followed her, his weight pressing her into the bed in the best kind of ways, and she rolled her hips beneath him. He broke away, a haggard breath escaping.

“Sara-” Whatever he was going to say faded away with a moan as she did it again.

She grinned, glad that she could break through all that courtroom show and cold lawyer bullshit to the real Leonard Snart beneath it. The one she felt like she’d known for years as opposed to weeks. The one currently using his teeth in a very interesting manner on her neck.

Shimmying her hands between them, she popped the button on his slacks and undid the zipper, brushing against the firm muscle between them and making him buck against her.

Hooking her foot around his knee, she flipped them, shoving his slacks down around his knees, then off onto the floor, as she settled against his hips, only his briefs separating them.

She shifted, watching Leonard’s eyes fly shut and his jaw clench as she rubbed along him. His hands grabbed her waist, his fingers pressing into her so hard he might leave bruises. She did it again and he almost growled beneath her, his eyes opening and completely black.

She leaned down and kissed him, her hips still rolling against him. 

“Sara,” he whispered, interspersing the syllables with piercing kisses. “Please.”

Damn, he could ask for anything in that tone of voice and she’d give it to him.

Sliding down his body, she grabbed his briefs and pulled them down. Settling between his hips, she didn’t give him any time to prepare before taking him into her mouth.

“Jes-” he choked back what he’d been about to say, his hands fisting on the bedspread. Sara hollowed out her cheeks and Leonard’s hand flew to the back of her head, her name coming out in strangled tones.

It was fucking empowering, to be honest.

After only a few more seconds, Leonard stopped her, “Sara, stop, I want-”

She pulled away, looking up at him. “Want what?”

He sat up, and she rose up next to him. His hand cupped her face, his eyes dark but not clouded. “You.”

Leonard kissed her, quite unlike the earlier ones. There was heat and urgency, yes, but something much slower and deeper, that rolled between them like a shockwave. Straddling his hips again without breaking the kiss, she didn’t let him lie back. His hands roamed over her back, one tangling in her hair as he held her closely, the taste of his lips making her restless, grinding against him. Her arms were around his neck, her hand scraping over his hair and jaw.

Leonard didn’t move back, not much, just enough to mumble, “Condom-”

“IUD,” she breathed. “And clean. You?”

“Of course.”

“Thank god,” she said, kissing him again as she raised herself up just enough and slid back down on him, with a stuttering breath as he filled her up.

Leonard’s hands were like vices around her, holding her against him as if they could become one. Usually she didn’t buy into the romantic bullshit, but god, she wanted it to be true right now.

She rose up just a few inches, sliding back down along him slowly. Leonard groaned, kissing her until she was completely breathless. For all their intense start, she was startled to find that this slow, intimate pace was exactly what both of them wanted.

One night stands for Sara had been rushed, extreme moments, chased with a tinge of dissatisfaction and scotch. Nothing about this was rushed, and though intense, she’d never call it extreme. There wasn’t going to be any dissatisfaction and the only scotch she’d drink afterwards would be with him.

She rose up again, kissing every bit of Leonard she could reach, his face, his jaw, his cheeks, she kept her eyes open, not wanting to miss a moment of this, not the way his jaw clenched each time she slid down, as if she didn’t want to hear every indecent sound that slipped out of him. Not the way his eyes remained laser focused on her face, like he was trying to remember it perfectly just like her. Not the way his lips formed words that he didn’t voice, and that she pretended not to understand, not in this moment.

This wasn’t a one night stand, but that’s all she was willing to admit just now.

His hands dug into her skin, clenching and unclenching, and she knew he was close. Which made it all the more startling when he tilted them over, pushing her back into the bed and leaning over her.

“Not without you,” he growled.

One of those hands, and those damn clever fingers, found its way between them, twisting and working her until she trembled beneath him, and never losing their rhythm.

“Fuck,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Sara, look at me. Look at me,” he pleaded.

She forced her eyes open, Leonard leaned over her, just a breath away. His lips brushed hers and the angle was right and his fingers-

“Len!” she cried out, lights exploding behind her eyes. She threw her head back, riding out the aftershocks and he kissed her throat, his hand shifting to her hip to pull her harder against him.

She did her best to catch her breath, rolling against him when he moved forward. She grinned when he met her eyes.

“Come on, hotshot,” she murmured.

He leaned down to kiss her hard, his teeth scraping her lip, and she ran her hands over his back, pulling him against her as tightly as she could. A breath, then his grip tightened impossibly harder, the most obscene, “Sara,” she’d ever heard in her life slipping from his lips to hers, and she knew that sound would be forever ingrained on her memory.

Then, lying there, still wrapped up in Leonard, his breath hot against her neck, Sara’s head caught up with what her heart had known for weeks. She pressed her lips against his, that simple kiss seeming so much more vulnerable than anything they’d just done.

Leonard Snart was a fucking prim, arrogant, brilliant, stubborn, loyal, pain in the ass.

And she loved him.

* * *

Several hours later, the moonlight had crawled away to the edge of the windows, the shadow between night and day taking over every corner of the bedroom, escaping from the piles of discarded clothing, muffling the glitter of a set of knives, softening the breaths from Sara, sleeping on the large, empty bed, the sheet pulled up to her waist. Her hand was outstretched, reaching out for something but finding nothing but the shadows.

Out in the living room, the shadows were a little darker, heavier. They clung to the feet of the piano, they dragged the curtains down, pooling beneath them. In the kitchen, the dark scotch seemed black in the glass that sat next to Leonard Snart’s elbow. His head was in his hands as he sat at the kitchen table, his papers, phone, and briefcase spread out upon the top. Lifting his head slightly, he looked out the window, the shadows surrounding his eyes, deepening the lines of exhaustion. Staring out into nothing, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe, and then-

“What have I done?”

But only shadows heard him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the angst...

Sara opened her eyes slowly, her internal clock waking her at dawn, despite the activities of the evening before. She stretched, aches and pains from muscles not being used those ways helping her wake even more. Leonard was nowhere in sight, but she didn’t worry too much about it. She could smell coffee from the kitchen. Getting to her feet, she grabbed his striped shirt from the day before and pulled it on, her own stuff still in the other room down the hall. It hit her thigh, the cuffs dangling over her hands. She did up some of the buttons, but if they were going to be on house arrest today until everything was secured, she could think of several ways to pass the time, none of which included this shirt.

Last night had been amazing. Everything she’d imagined and then a hundred percent more. She was fucking lucky to find a guy like Leonard, someone who respected her and treated her as an equal, who wasn’t frightened off by her past or her attitude, who understood what it was like to feel like you weren’t worth anything and be working on fixing that. Someone who cared about her, all the good and bad things included.

In bare feet, she wandered into the other room, seeing Leonard at the window. He was completely dressed, though in his more casual jeans and a sweater. She must have slept well not to hear him getting dressed this morning. His was staring out, a mug of coffee in his hand.

Another of her stray thoughts insinuated itself in her head, thinking it would be nice to wake up to him everyday. She smiled, putting it aside, though not as far as she usually did.

Giving into the urge she’d had a while ago, she stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek against his back.

“Morning,” she said, smiling. It was as soft as she thought it would be. “Sleep well?”

He didn’t answer, and stepped out of her hug.

Sara tilted her head at him, “What’s going on?”

He still didn’t say anything and Sara grabbed his arm, turning him around, “Len, come on, what’s-”

When he turned, there was no smile on his face. There was nothing. Not even a memory of the emotions that had played across his expression last night.

“Hey,” she started frowning, “is everything okay?”

“No.”

The word was cold, almost angry.

“What happened?” she asked, her anger rising in reaction to his, whatever it was, she’d take care of it, and then he’d be okay, but she had to know-

Leonard stared past her, “I don’t feel safe.”

The words were simple words. Nothing over a syllable, but they didn’t make sense in Sara’s head. She stared at him, unable to say anything other than a strangled, “What?”

“I said, I don’t feel safe. I’d like someone else assigned to my case.” He walked past her to the kitchen, his things neatly organized on the table.

“Since when?” she asked, following him, unable to keep herself away. She was regretting dressing like this now. She felt like a fucking idiot, some love-struck moron mooning over a man who didn’t-

“Last night.”

“Last night,” she repeated, stopping in her tracks. “Would that be before or after?”

He sighed, turning to face her. “It’s complicated, and-”

“Don’t take that fucking condescending tone with me. Before or after?”

“When the explosion-”

“Before, then,” she said, falling silent for a moment. “I...I asked you if you wanted- wanted this. And you said yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Her hands were shaking. This wasn’t some fucking missed birthday or forgotten date, this was so much fucking worse and he was apologizing like it meant nothing.

“But I am,” he repeated quietly. “I’m very sorry that this didn’t work out, but I just don’t feel safe anymore.”

“You felt safe enough to fuck me.”

He flinched. “I got caught up in the moment, but I realize it was a…”

“A mistake,” Sara finished for him, when he stopped speaking.

Leonard didn’t disagree. He didn’t say anything at all.

Sara’s breath wasn’t coming, and her heart had relocated into her throat, choking her, but she’d be damned if she let him see how much he’d hurt her. She turned away, trying to get her temper under control, but was she was angry, and embarrassed, and hurt, and...she wanted to hate him right now, she really did, but she couldn’t.

Fucking traitorous heart.

She paused, turning to face him, though he seemed unwilling to meet her eyes.

“Did something happen?” she asked, praying that there was some explanation for his behavior, that it wasn’t just because he didn’t care. “Was there another letter or something? Because I can take these assholes, you don’t need to protect me. And I-”

“There’s no letter. You can look.” He gestured at the table.

And there went her last hope.

“Right,” she said. “Of course.” She was an idiot to think they could have worked out. He was Leonard fucking Snart, lawyer and hero, and she was a barely employable murderer for hire. She was an idiot for thinking he could love her.

“I just…” he said, hesitating, “I can’t help the way I feel. Or don’t.”

Like how he didn’t feel safe. Like how he didn’t feel what she did.

“If,” she started, having to clear her throat, “we can go back to the way things were, I can still help-”

“I appreciate it. But I’d prefer someone else.”

Such a fucking polite tone. The same condescending tone he’d used with the defense in Scudder’s case. The same tone he used with Scudder. The tone he used with everyone he thought was beneath him.

All of her anger and fury went out of her. She wasn’t a trained assassin. She wasn’t a Legend. She was a fucking heartbroken fool, and she just wanted to get out of there. She had to get out of there, she had to leave, because she couldn’t handle him looking at her like this, not after the way he looked at her last night, not for one more second.

“Fine,” she said quietly. “I’ll get someone else.” She turned and walked to the spare room, making a quick phone call to the Legends and dressing in record time. When she was ready, she sat on the edge of the bed, too cowardly to go out and face him.

She stared at the wall, trying to figure out where it’d gone wrong, but she couldn’t focus, every shift and she felt the aches of last night, every hard swallow of her throat brought memories of his lips, her hands in fists on her lap reminded her of how hard he’d held to her, bruises on her hips.

Her phone buzzed, Amaya was downstairs.

She grabbed her bag, hauling it over her shoulder as she stepped out. Leonard was at his desk, typing something into his computer.

Sara stopped in front of him, unsure of what to say. Leonard never even looked up. So she decided to say nothing, and walked past him.

When she got to the door, he called after her.

“Goodbye, Sara.”

She didn’t respond, shutting the door behind her and leaving Leonard behind.

* * *

Sara rolled into the Legends building late Sunday morning, the tight jeans and skimpy top she’d worn out to the club still reeking of sweat and alcohol. Her head pounding, she removed the sunglasses she picked up off someone the night before, limping slightly in her boots.

Gideon looked up at her as she entered, her lips pressing together.

“I don’t want to hear a fucking word,” Sara muttered, tossing the glasses onto the desk.

Gideon nodded. “Rip is out of the office for the day.”

Sara heard the hidden wording - clean your shit up.

Heading upstairs, she grabbed some clothes out of her room, then headed towards the bathroom on her floor. Zari had already showered and had passed Sara in the hall, and Amaya-

Amaya had Sara’s job to do.

Sara stripped in the bathroom, keeping her eyes away from the mirror until the steam from the scalding water had fogged it up entirely. She stepped in, watching her skin immediately flush red, then stuck her head under the spray.

She tried going out to the club and dancing with strangers, hoping that their hands and kisses and breath might erase whatever memories she hadn’t numbed with alcohol. But whenever someone put their hand on her waist, she couldn’t help but compare it. No one’s hands were wide enough, or warm enough, or moved the right way, or right enough-

So she drank more and kept trying. A girl who’d been buying her drinks tried to kiss her, and Sara thought it was okay, until the last moment, when she turned away, letting the girl catch her cheek instead. No matter how much she drank, she wouldn’t be able to forget the way he felt. A stupid, weak little part of her didn’t want to.

She closed her eyes and regretted it immediately, the hot water coming closer to his touch than anything else and she could see bright blue eyes, blown out and dark, leaning over her and promising-

Sara turned and shut the water off, enduring the burst of cold water to drive away any residual memories.

Promising nothing.

Wiping her face, she shoved the palms of her hands into her eyes until she saw spots, trying to drown out anything - everything - because this was wrecking her.

In sweatpants and a tank top, she went back to her room, opening the door and pausing, the towel still squeezing water out of her hair.

Zari, Ray, and Gideon were in her room.

“What’s going on?” Sara asked suspiciously, hanging her towel on her door as she closed it behind her.

Ray stood, “Sara, we just want you to know that we’re here for you. And we want to help you in any way that-”

“Shut up, Ray,” Zari cut in. “Here.” She handed Sara a big cup of coffee.

Sara took it, sitting on the chair by her desk, sipping the drink. When it was clear she wasn’t going to speak, Gideon sighed and leaned forward.

“What happened with you and Mr. Snart?”

Sara scoffed, “Nothing, I-”

“Sara,” Zari interrupted. “You two were inseparable, and then all of a sudden, he bails. Since when? What the hell happened?”

“He said he didn’t feel safe, and would prefer someone else.” She got that out without her voice trembling.

“So what happened?” Ray asked.

She got to her feet, leaving the mug on her desk. “Nothing, it’s just-”

“Bullshit,” Zari cut in.

“Sara,” Gideon said gently.

“I fucked up, okay!” she shouted.

Ray and Zari drew back, but Gideon merely blinked.

Now with the dam broken, Sara couldn’t stop, “I fucked up. I got distracted and emotionally compromised and he saw it, so now we’re done.” She leaned against the wall, rubbing her temples.

“You slept with him,” Gideon said, after a moment of quiet.

Sara’s head jerked up, staring Gideon in the eye. “Yeah. Yes. Fucking stupid.”

“I don’t think so,” Ray said, having recovered from her outburst.

“Why’s that?” Sara asked sarcastically.

“Well, you love him.”

Sara swallowed, unable to find the breath to disagree, to argue, to say anything where she might retain her dignity.

“And Leonard?” Gideon asked, shifting on the bed to make room.

“Well, I’m not there any longer, so I think his feelings are pretty fucking clear,” Sara said quietly. She took Gideon’s unspoken offer and sat next to her, Ray taking the chair so he could face her.

“Eh, I don’t think so,” Zari said. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you at the party, he’s into you.” When everyone looked at her, she glared. “What? I pay attention.”

“Doesn’t matter about the party. He asked for someone else,” Sara said. “He said he didn’t feel safe. I’m not going to pressure him.”

“But you love him,” Ray said, leaning forward.

“So?” Sara said. “It’s probably what made him...he figured I was too distracted.”

“You caring is a distraction?” Gideon asked. “Don’t you think it make you more attentive and willing to go the extra mile?”

Sara shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what he wants and that’s not me.”

Ray shook his head. “I think you’re wrong. You two are meant to be. Destiny.”

“Thanks. But that doesn’t mean much right now.”

They sat quietly, no one knowing how to follow that. Sara rubbed her temples, that ache behind her eyes constantly pressing against her skull.

“What do you need?” Zari asked.

Sara dropped her hands. “I need...him to be okay.”

“Then we keep working the case,” Ray said. “We figure out, once and for all, what’s going on. And when it’s done, you can be together.”

That was optimistic, but she appreciated the gesture.

“This isn’t over, Sara,” Zari said. “I can always beat the stupid out of him.”

Sara laughed, a short, harder sound, but still a laugh. “Thanks. Really. Now, go away before Ray starts braiding our hair.”

“Let’s go, Boy Scout,” Zari said, grabbing his elbow and towing him toward the door.

“Actually, in Eagle Scouts, I earned a merit badge in-”

Gideon stood, smoothing her skirt and glancing at Sara. “What else can I do for you, Ms. Lance?”

Sara resisted the urge to hug her; fuck, she’d gotten so soft in the past two weeks. “I’d like to keep busy.”

“I can arrange that. Rip has some upcoming consultations, and I’m sure he’d appreciate your insight,” Gideon said. She strode towards the door, grasping the handle and stepping out. Midway through the threshold, she paused. “For what it’s worth, I agree with Mr. Palmer. You two are meant for each other. This will work itself out.”

“Thanks, Gideon.”

The door closed behind her, and Sara didn’t move for a couple minutes, trying to come to terms with everything they’d said. Eventually, she stood, downed the coffee, and pulled out Leonard’s file.

Time to get to work.

* * *

Monday morning, Leonard woke with his alarm. He took a shower, got dressed carefully. He made his coffee. His phone buzzed and displayed a text.

**Good morning. I’m downstairs.**

Leonard put on his jacket and grabbed his briefcase, his phone sliding into his pocket. Taking the stairs, he looked up, a flash of blonde hair near the door making him stumble. But the woman walked past the door, revealing Miss Amaya Jiwe outside.

Leonard stepped out, nodding at her. “Morning.”

“Good morning, Mr. Snart. How did you sleep?”

“Fine.”

She took his not so subtle hint for no talking and they walked to his work in silence. He kept his eyes up and moving, avoiding car doors as they opened, stepping around people to keep them out of arm’s reach. Amaya was attentive, no sign of a smile on her face as she worked.

She hadn’t been as talkative as when he’d seen her the night of the party. A tension he knew he was responsible for keeping them from talking. He couldn’t blame her. He knew exactly who was to blame.

They got to his building and Amaya walked him to the door. “I’ll see you at lunch,” she said.

“I’ll be working through lunch,” he told her.

“Alright. Call if you need anything,” she responded. “I’ll be here.”

“Thanks,” Leonard said, stepping through the lobby and entering the elevator. He was early enough that his walk to his office was solitary, which was exactly the way he wanted it. Dropping his briefcase on his desk, he shut the door, wanting some quiet as he worked through Jesse’s case.

Pulling the files out, he took his seat, placing his documents in order. He starting skimming through the information provided by the witnesses and cops, needing to prep before writing his questions. 

**Witnesses saw Trickster (Jesse) fleeing the scene of the crime, the gold-**

_ Gold hair splayed across his comforter as he leaned over Sara, her impish grin as she rolling against him completely unapologetic, and he kissed it off her lips, pressing against her, and he needed to feel her so badly it hurt- _

Leonard cleared his throat, refocusing on the documents.

**Firefighters confirmed that the fire began in the vault, before spreading to the rest of the bank, the color and intensely hot-**

_ “Come on, hotshot,” she said beneath him, absurdly innocent words for her, but the tone making it the hottest thing he’d heard in his life. Her cheeks still flushed, breath still panting between her lips, Leonard decided he could live on this feeling, hovering over the edge, as long as she was there to catch him- _

He stood, dropping the papers and pacing in front of his window, trying to catch his breath. Was this his punishment? Being forced to relive this memory for eternity? Because what exquisite torture it would be. Grabbing the file, he remained standing.

**Footprints leading from the scene of the explosion-**

_ -behind his eyes as her mouth wrapped around him unexpectedly. He choked back the swears that filled his throat, his hand tangling in her hair. He wasn’t anticipating this, despite his earlier actions. Her tongue ran along him and he started to see stars. He needed to stop, because he wanted her this first time, just her- _

He rubbed his eyes, cursing himself and trying again.

**...might have been the perfect crime-**

_ “Perfect,” he murmured. Battered and bruised, she was the most powerful, beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her pale skin, gold hair, her bright eyes. How did she not see how amazing she was? _

He grabbed his coffee off the table, trying to drown out the dry taste in his mouth, the memories of how she tasted tainting every piece of food he’d forced into his leaden stomach.

**-breaking in while the residents were asleep.**

_ Leonard snuck out of bed, Sara’s hand slipping out of his as he left. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants, his eyes continually drifting back to her. The sheets were pulled up to her shoulders, her lips parted slightly in unconsciousness. He smiled down at her, unable to resist bending down and pressing his lips to her cheek briefly, not enough to wake her. Before he left, he took one last look, memorizing the sight of Sara in his bed. Hopefully, he would see this for many days to come. But right now, he had work to catch up on. So he left their bed like a thief in the night and- _

He clenched his fist, leaning against his window. Turning his eyes to his work, he tried to focus one last time. He was a professional.

**Witnesses claimed Trickster wanted-**

_ “I want this. Do you?” _

He threw the file onto his desk, knocking the metal pencil holder onto the ground with a clatter. There was a knock at the door.

“What?” Leonard barked out.

Nelson, a younger intern poked his head in. “Sorry to bother you, Mr. Snart…” he trailed off, looking at the mess on the floor.

“What was it, Nelson?” Leonard said, fixing his tone.

“I was told you’re needed in the conference room.”

“Thank you. I’ll be there.”

Nelson nodded, shutting the door behind him.

Leonard took a deep breath, exhaling through his nose. He was a fool. A selfish and arrogant fool to think he could have anything when people like Hammond were after him and not put them at risk. He glanced at his phone, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He brought this on himself. He would whatever price. Even if it drove him mad.

The phone he was glaring at started ringing, and he saw Lisa’s name on the display.

“Hey,” he said, picking it up and slouching into his chair. “Everything okay?”

_ “Yeah,”  _ Lisa said, sounding a little subdued.  _ “Um, Zari let something slip so I wanted to check on you. I know you and Sara-” _

There was only one thing Zari could have let slip about Sara. “I’m fine,” he interrupted.

_ “Hey, if you wanna get together for a drink tonight,” _ Lisa started.

“Thanks. But I think...I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

_ “Oh, okay.”  _ She was quiet for a long moment.  _ “You sure?” _

“Thanks, Lisa. But I’d rather just focus on work. Some other time.”

_ “Okay. It’s gonna be okay, Lenny.” _

“Yeah,” he lied.

_ “Bye,” _ Lisa said.

“Bye.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Sara, Rip wants- Holy shit.”

Sara turned as Zari opened her door, the darker woman stopping in the frame to stare at the disaster that was Sara’s room. Papers, documents, dates, photos, logs of prison visits, all connected by lines and comments that ranged throughout her entire room. This had been her life the past several days, and it took her a long moment to realize it was only Thursday.

Zari leaned against the door. “Well, if I didn’t know you so well, I’d think you were Snart’s stalker.”

“Ha,” Sara said, grabbing her jacket and swinging it on. “What does Rip want?”

“His consult is here. Thought you wanted to sit in on it.”

Wanted and needed were two different things, and Sara desperately needed to stay busy. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Anything new?” Zari asked.

“Not yet,” Sara admitted. “Gideon and I have been working through the payments. Ray is looking for DNA off the letters, but the only winner so far is mine and Snart’s. Rip and Nate have been tracking Hammond in every off second. But the one case we thought it was related to is over, and he still received a letter. So what the fuck do they want?” she asked, glancing back at the board.

“We’re gonna figure this out.”

“I know.” She rubbed her eyes. “How’s Lisa?”

Zari shrugged, “Stubborn as fuck. But she checks in and wears her tracker.”

“Good.”

“Mick’s been a bit of a shit to train, but I think he’ll do well.”

“Me too. I’m glad Rip followed through with him.” She glanced at her phone, seeing it was five past. “Okay. Keep me updated. See you later.”

“Have fun,” Zari called after her.

Sara jogged down to the conference room, coming up right behind Rip and two people in suits.

Rip smiled at her, “Gentlemen, meet Ms. Sara Lance. Ms. Lance, this is Mr. Heywood, Nate’s father. And Director Sharpe. They work for the government and were looking for a consult.”

Sara nodded at each of them. “Nice to meet you.”

They filed in and took seats at the thick table.

“Care to fill us in on what’s been happening so far?” Rip said, taking out his notebook.

Director Sharpe, a beautiful, if severe looking woman, leaned forward, “We’ve encountered a stalking situation, and it’s not like anything we’ve seen.”

_ “You haven’t seen anything, yet.” _

_ Wet, hot heat enveloped her and Sara couldn’t help the sounds that escaped from between her lips. She made the mistake of looking down as Leonard looked up, his eyes bright and dark, and his mouth- _

She cleared her throat. “The target?”

“Wealthy government official,” Mr. Heywood said. His jacket strained under his wide chest, but he spoke with authority. “We think they’re leaning on him to sway the vote to repeal Net Neutrality. Payouts to his bank account under the guise of campaign donations, new cars, but he doesn’t accept any of it. But we’re concerned they’re going to escalate to worse methods. We don’t feel-”

_ “I can’t help the way I feel. Or don’t.” _

_ The words were like lead in her stomach, weighing her down, dragging her under the regret she wished she felt. She wished she could just hate him, because that would be so much easier- _

Sara grabbed the water sitting in front of her.

“We’re looking for advice for what to watch out for, how to anticipate their movements and make sure we’re not falling-”

_ Falling in love with him hadn’t been a fucking choice. She would’ve refused. Not because he wasn’t worth it, because she knew he was. Not even because she thought she wasn’t worth it. _

_ Sara swayed in his arms, Leonard wrapped around her. He held her tightly, his breath brushing against her check. _

_ She would’ve refused because this was the kind of love that could make or break a person. And Sara had been broken too many times. She wasn’t certain she could survive another one. _

“...advice, Ms. Lance?” Rip was saying.

Sara looked up at him, “Sorry, what?”

“Advice for our guests?” Rip said, frowning at her slightly. “What to watch out for.”

“In, um...in my experience,” Sara said, clearing her throat, “with the amount of money they’re throwing around, you’re dealing with a group or an incredibly well connected individual. If the more passive actions won’t work, they’re going to escalate. Look out for apparent inconveniences: his car stops working, papers going missing, threats, veiled or otherwise. If you have them paranoid, you have them on the ropes, and that makes them easier to manipulate.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” Rip asked, turning to Sara.

She looked over at him, considering the question. “I’d alienate them. Keep them from help. I’d make sure they felt isolated. Make them feel like it was just them against me. Turn them against their friends or vice versa. Makes them desperate. Makes them vulnerable. I’d...”

She trailed off, staring past Rip.

“Sara?”

“I’m sorry, excuse me for a minute.”

She stood, ignoring Rip’s glare and the confused looks of the clients, leaving her chair spinning as she ran towards the door. It slammed shut behind her and she got to the front lobby in record time. Gideon was at the desk, and turned when Sara shouted her name.

“Yes, Ms. Lance?”

“Do you have access to Snart’s phone?”

“I can, yes, but-”

“Pull it up. Show me any messages from Friday and Saturday.”

Gideon stared at her for a moment, then turned her chair, pulling up a program that, after a few minutes of typing, displayed Leonard’s home screen, remotely accessed.

“Anything?” Sara asked, leaning forward.

Gideon scrolled through the texts, but Sara only saw the ones from her and a couple from Lisa.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Gideon said quietly.

“Fuck,” Sara whispered, so sure that had been it. She chewed her thumb. If it wasn’t a physical letter, and it wasn’t a text-

“His email,” she said, placing her hands on the back of Gideon’s chair. “His work and personal email.”

Gideon didn’t argue, but Sara could tell by the set of her shoulders that she didn’t believe they would find anything. She typed in silence, glancing up only when Rip entered the lobby, his brow a thundercloud.

Rip started in on Sara. “Ms. Lance, I can’t believe that you-”

“I had a thought, Rip, I needed to check it out.” She faced him, unable to be apologetic, because she prayed she was right.

He shook his head. “You asked to be a part of that consult and then you embarrass me and the company by running out mid-sentence. What do you-”

“Oh my god,” Gideon whispered.

Sara turned around, immediately turning her attention to Gideon and drowning out Rip. Gideon had Snart’s work and home email up, but it was two messages from his work that she’d opened.

One was sent mid-afternoon on Friday, after 2. An image was the first thing Sara saw. Sara and Leonard at lunch, her head thrown back in laughter as he frowned at the mustard on his fingers. The message below was short, but to the point, same in tone as the others:  **Drive her away. Or pay the consequence tonight. Last chance.**

“The second one?” Sara asked quietly.

Gideon pulled it forward, another image and message. Sara, in the white dress, ash streaked and bloodied, wide eyes as she leaned over Leonard in the parking lot, temporarily unconscious.

**You did this.**

Rip swore under his breath, reading over Gideon’s shoulder. “Ms. Lance-”

“When were they opened the first time?” Sara asked.

Gideon pulled up a line of code, reading something in them that Sara couldn’t understand. “It appears both messages were opened early Saturday morning, around three A.M.”

He hadn’t checked before the party. He’d been in meetings, then getting ready. He hadn’t seen them before, but then...

Sara stared at the screen, but didn’t see the messages. Everything he’d said that morning, it had been a ruse, to try to keep her safe. He cared about her enough to try and protect her. He still cared-

“He was threatened,” Gideon summarized. “Which means that he...” she stopped talking, pressing her lips together.

Rip glanced at her, obviously connecting the dots in the way only Rip could. “Sara, I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Sara muttered. “You were right. I would’ve seen this for what it was if I wasn’t so...involved.”

“But,” Gideon spoke up, “this means you can-”

“It means I can’t do shit,” Sara cut in sharply, forcing herself to focus.

“But, if this wasn’t his choice,” Rip started.

“It wasn’t. But he’s decided to be noble. If I go back and tell him what I know, it’s not going to change his mind,” she told them. “It’ll just make him more fucking crafty about getting away. He’ll walk into the fucking lion’s den if it meant protecting someone else.”

“You really believe he’s that self-sacrificing?” Rip asked.

Sara snorted, “I think he invented the word.”

“Then what now?” Rip asked.

Sara turned on her heel, her phone in her hand, her answer thrown over her shoulder. “I’m gonna keep that stubborn asshole alive so I can kick his ass for being so goddamn noble.”

“And then?” Gideon called after her.

Sara didn’t answer.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh! -ANGST INTENSIFIES-

Leonard sat at the piano, tipping the bottle of scotch over his glass. Nothing came out and he sighed, rubbing his eyes. That was the third bottle this week. A long, terrible week, and it was only just Thursday.

He wasn’t playing his piano. He hadn’t in a couple days. But he sat at it every night, watching the darkness slowly take over his living room. Sometimes he made it to the spare room. Sometimes he didn’t.

His phone rang and he glared at it, ignoring the drop in his stomach that came every time he looked at the device. The gnawing chasm of guilt had been there since Saturday. Half because he hadn’t checked his phone before the party, and maybe he could have avoided everything that came after. Half because of Sara’s expression the next morning, and he knew he caused that, all by himself.

But it had been the only way. If he’d told her the truth, things might have escalated, and he wasn’t a complete moron - they were looking to ruin him, not kill him. Which means he wouldn’t have been the target of more deadly attacks. Sara would have been. She would have insisted on staying, she would have insisted on putting herself in harm’s way to protect him and he couldn’t...he refused to be responsible for more of her scars.

That didn’t help now, though, as he recalled the way he’d spoken to her afterwards. How he’d brushed her off, how he’d pushed her away, how he’d pretended he didn’t care, when in reality…

His hooded gaze was drawn towards the bedroom door.

The phone rang again, and he flinched, grabbing it. “What?”

_ “Lenny.” _

He sighed, “Lisa. What’s wrong?”

_ “Nothing, I just...I wanted to check in on you. How are you?” _

“I’m fine.”

_ “Drinking?” _

“What’s wrong, Lisa?” he asked, ignoring the question.

There was the clink of ice in the receiver.  _ “You ever miss Dad?” _

Leonard hesitated. “For your sake, I wish he was here.”

_ “That’s not an answer.” _

Perhaps it was the drink that made him blunt. Or maybe he was just so tired of lying to people. “You had a different relationship with him than I did.”

She was quiet, but she heard the ice again.  _ “Lenny, did you...fuck, this is hard. Did you...did you throw Dad’s case?” _

Leonard didn’t answer, squeezing his eyes shut.

_ “Lenny.” _ Her tone made it clear she already knew.

“It was...complicated,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes.

_ “Wow,”  _ she laughed, a harsh angry sound that sounded eerily familiar to him, bringing back childhood nightmares of thundering footsteps up the stairs.  _ “You really did it.” _

“Who told you?” he asked, numbly.

_ “I got a letter.” _

“‘Course you did,” he muttered. He leaned forward, leaning against the piano. “Look, there’s a lot you don’t know about Lewis-”

_ “Fuck you, Leonard.” _

A dial tone echoed in his ear. He lowered the phone, staring at the ground. “Right,” Leonard muttered. He lowered the phone, placing it back on the piano.

He lost his investigator. He lost his sister. He lost his...Sara.

At this rate, what more did he have to lose?

He tipped the empty glass back to his mouth.

What more could he stand to lose?

 

* * *

 

Sara sat on her bed, the glass next to her empty of everything but some melted ice. She had her phone in front of her, watching the little blue dot that denoted Leonard’s location. This was probably textbook unhealthy, but she couldn’t help it. If she stared at it long enough, maybe she could figure it out. Her mind immediately fell into the pattern it had found, an inescapable loop of illogical events.

Leonard’s threatened into dropping a case. Only case worth anything is Scudder’s, though it doesn’t match the timing exactly. Scudder is shot, Leonard still receives letters. No other cases match up with the timing, no other cases have any connection to his father or Hammond or Scudder or Dillon…

But Leonard’s threatened into dropping a case.

Sara rubbed her eyes, then looked around her room, trying to find some connection. Anything at all. But she kept coming up blank. She was missing something important.

Closing her eyes, she sat back, the faint beeping of Leonard’s communicator a comforting sound. She wished she could just call him, and talk to him. Try to get him to see that she wasn’t about to let him put himself in danger, despite his best efforts. Try to make him realize that she was going to do everything she could to save him.

God, if the two of them survived this insanity, she was going to lock him in that fucking bedroom for an entire week.

Her phone buzzed, showing a text from Amaya:  **How are you?**

_ Fine. How’s Leonard? _

**Subdued. I believe he and Lisa are on the outs.**

_ Why? _

**He won’t say. Are you busy tomorrow night?**

_ Funny.  _ She’d be doing the same damn thing every night this week. Why would Saturday be different?

**Snart apparently has an event downtown. Something for his firm. He says he has to go, but it’s a public venue with little security.**

Sara rolled her eyes.  _ Did you tell him no? _

**I tried. But he just ignored me. I believe he will attend with or without my permission, and I’d rather be allowed in.**

“For fuck’s sake,” she muttered, typing back:  _ I’ll be there. Send me the address. _

**Thank you.**

Jesus, this fucking lawyer was bad for her health. An address came through from Amaya and Sara got to her feet with a stretch, then walked out her door, already shouting down the hallway. “Gideon?! I need some blueprints fucking STAT.”

* * *

Leonard got dressed slowly, little attention on his actions as his mind wandered. Despite tonight being a special event, he couldn’t muster up the effort to wear anything other than a plain black suit. He glanced at his phone, catching sight of the bags under his eyes in the mirror. Ignoring that, he picked it up, dialing Lisa’s number.

It went straight to voicemail. Again. He’d been on the receiving end of her cold shoulder, but this was impressive.

Leonard sighed, closing his eyes. “Lisa. It’s me. I have this party tonight and wanted you to come. I want to explain everything. So please, meet me there. I’ve texted you the address. Your name is on the list, if you decide to go. Please. I’d like to see you.”

He hung up, staring at the phone as if she’d call back and forgive him. Unlikely.

He went back to his text messages, seeing the most recent ones were from Lisa and Amaya. Further down was Mick. And below that-

He tapped on Sara’s name, looking at the contact. If he called, he knew she’d listen. However angry she was, she always listened when he needed her to. And he needed her.

A text came through and his heart leapt into his throat. But it was just Amaya, telling him she was downstairs.

Cursing his weakness, he slipped his phone into his pocket, ignoring the silver of the tracking bracelet still on his wrist and grabbed his keys. There was a reason he’d done what he did. If he ran to her the first second he had doubts, he’d hurt her for nothing. That was unacceptable.

Straightening his jacket, he strode out the door.

* * *

Sara’s black slacks and white shirt weren’t anything special, but the point was to blend in with the waitstaff, not stand out. Her communicator in her ear and her phone in her pocket, she wandered the hotel ballroom, the venue for Leonard’s company’s party, her eyes looking for any weakness.

Truth be told, though there was a lack of security measures at the front, security in the building was decent. Only people who were on the list were getting in, unless they were staff with excellent fake credentials. Sara caught sight of Amaya, but did her best to keep out of sight of anyone else, ducking around corners.

Still, she accidentally saw Leonard as he greeted a coworker, and her breath caught in her chest.

It was the first time she’d seen him since she left his apartment a week ago. He was smiling, but she saw the shadows under his eyes and the tightness in his jaw. Asshole probably hadn’t been eating, going back to skipping his lunches. Moron. Part of her wanted to relish in his obvious suffering, hoping he’d learned his lesson about trying to go at it alone and just fucking  _ talk  _ to her-

But most of her just wanted him to be okay, no matter what. He may have been an asshole, but she understood his misguided intentions a little too well to blame him. Hell, she’d done the same thing before. Didn’t mean he was right, but it made it a little harder to be mad at him.

Swallowing back her emotions, she continued to rotate around the room, avoiding Leonard’s line of sight as she tried to keep him in hers. As the night wore on, she saw him chatting and drinking with others, apparently at ease.

But she also saw how he tended to put himself with his back to a wall or to Amaya, making sure he could see who was approaching. How he carried his drink with him at all times, leaving his palm over it nonchalantly, but actively keeping anyone from doctoring it. How his eyes moved to exits regularly, either seeing who came in or making sure he knew the quickest way out. He never kept both hands occupied, always making sure he had one hand free and out of his pocket.

He remembered the crap she’d done and said, and taken it to heart. He was taking precautions, despite his former stupidity of driving her away.

However, his actions didn’t keep the sick feeling in her stomach away, so Sara continued to circle, pinpointing a group of near-drunk young paralegals. They screamed trouble, but Sara wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not.

“Watch the group of asshats near the east bar,” Sara murmured into her communicator.

_ “On it,”  _ Amaya responded.

Sara circled again, seeing Amaya and Leonard making their way away from the drunks, still chatting casually. Suddenly, a cry broke out, and Sara grabbed at the knife at her back, freezing when she saw Amaya move, Leonard off to the side and away from danger.

One of the drunks held a bloody nose, while the other shouted something about making partner, which made no sense, but Sara kept moving, hovering between Amaya and Leonard, trying to watch both simultaneously.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

_ “Fine,” _ Amaya grunted, grabbing one by the arm and escorting him out the door.  _ “Just some idiots.” _

“Okay,” Sara said, watching the crowd shuffle past Leonard, trying to separate themselves from the spectacle.

* * *

Leonard rolled his eyes at the fools by the bar. Everyone knew the drinks at these parties were too strong to drink more than two. That’s why he’d been drinking soda water for the past three glasses. The others tried to shuffle past him towards the open air atrium, where he’d sworn to stay away from under threat of death by Amaya, so he moved to the side.

Someone bumped into Leonard’s shoulder and he glanced down, seeing a piece of paper hit the ground. He knelt down, grabbing it.

Speaking up, he tried to figure out who dropped it, but they were lost in the crowd already. “Excuse me, you…”

He trailed off, seeing his name on the envelope.

Glancing around, he looked for Amaya, but she was out of sight, dealing with the idiots and half a moving crowd in his way. Leonard slipped his fingers under the tab and pulled out a single photo. He swallowed tightly, flipping it over and reading the four words.

**West exit. Two minutes.**

Leonard looked around again, but Amaya was still out of sight. He had thirty seconds before she got back, if that. He glanced at his watch, a minute forty-five.

Putting the picture and his hands in his pockets, he moved towards the bathroom.

* * *

Sara weaved her way through the crowd, keeping out of sight, which had the added challenge of keeping Leonard out of sight momentarily as well. When she saw him again, he was walking towards the bathrooms.

“Amaya,” she said in her communicator, “he’s heading toward the bathrooms. Location?”

_ “Still tied up with these assholes. Can get there in a minute.” _

Sara hesitated, “I’ll stay on him.” She began to work her way through the party, praying her gut was wrong.

* * *

Leonard walked past the bathrooms, his hands in his pockets. He felt his phone buzz and picked it up, recognizing the number.

“What?”

_ “When you get to the door,” _ the voice said, distorted and unfamiliar, “ _ take off the bracelet. Break your phone and throw both in the dumpster.” _

“That’ll set off an alarm,” Leonard answered, amazed at how controlled he sounded.

_ “A car will pull up. Get in the back seat,” _ the voice said, as if he hadn’t spoken at all.  _ “You resist, and we’ll-” _

“I’m not resisting,” Leonard cut in coldly.

_ “You have one minute.” _

* * *

Sara stood obscured around the corner, waiting for Leonard to come out of the bathroom. She waited, her stomach somehow migrating into her throat. Something was wrong, something was up. Her instincts were screaming and Sara couldn’t tell why.

“Amaya,” she said, moving towards the door, “Something’s wrong. Get here-”

A shrill beeping echoed from Sara’s pocket. A noise she hadn’t heard in ages, but one that she was intimately familiar with.

“The tracker’s off,” Sara said, ignoring any sense of subtlety and kicking the door open. The bathroom was empty. “Fuck, Amaya, he’s not here!”

_ “Where-” _

“West exit is the only thing nearby,” Sara spat out, running out the door, knocking over a well-dressed gentleman. Another voice clicked onto her communicator.

_ “Ms. Lance, Mr. Snart’s tracking device has been removed and-” _

“I know, Gideon, west exit, get a visual now!” Sara shouted.

* * *

The night air was sour with the smell of the dumpster. The chill crept even through Leonard’s jacket and shirt, but he wasn’t certain it was purely the weather. He dropped his phone on the ground, stomping firmly . The screen cracked beneath his heel and went dark.

Leonard dropped the tracking device and his phone, with the other contents of his pockets into the dumpster by the door. He heard a car approaching, the lights off as it rolled in front of him. The locks clicked in the quiet alley.

Leonard reached out to grab the handle, then hesitated.

He glanced behind him at the door, wondering if Amaya already knew. He wondered what happened when he took off the communicator. Did Amaya get the alert? Did Sara? Was she still looking out for him?

Despite everything he’d done to keep her out of this, part of him still hoped she was watching the tracker. He hoped she’d find him and he hoped she came nowhere near him.

“I’m sorry, Sara,” he murmured.

Then he opened the door and slid into the car.

* * *

Sara threw open the door, her heart in her throat. The disgusting smell of the dumpster hit her, her stomach already turning and she nearly heaved, but she forced it back, looking for any sign of-

“Leonard?!” she shouted into the night, her voice sounded high and thin. On anyone else, she’d call it worried.

She knew this was fucking terrified.

“Gideon?” she asked, her voice trembling, “I don’t see- do you have a location? A visual? Did you see?”

She jogged to the edge of the alley, but it opened up onto a busy street. She couldn’t see anything, there was no one shouting or yelling, nothing out of the ordinary.

_ “His tracker turned off six yards behind you. I do not have a visual. This alley opens up to a street, and it’s all a dark zone for cameras. I’m still looking-” _

Sara tuned her out, looking six yards behind her. The dumpster.

With no care for her outfit, Sara pulled herself up, looking in. A flash of silver revealed the bracelet, and a shattered screen indicated his phone. Beneath that, was a folded piece of paper, sitting on top of the trash bags and clearly recently added.

Sara pulled those three items out, looking around. She couldn’t admit, she couldn’t just stop, because if she stopped, it meant that Leonard was gone, and if he was gone-

Amaya burst out of the building, “Sara?”

Grateful for a distraction, Sara turned. “He left his things, Gideon is still looking so we might-

_ “I’m sorry, Ms. Lance, but I didn’t see anything.” _

Sara looked down at the tracker and shattered phone. The piece of paper fluttered in her hands and Sara shifted, opening it up.

“Why would he just walk out?” Amaya asked, guilt and anger in her voice. “If he just said something, I could’ve-”

Sara stared at the picture. A young woman in a dark room, her hands bound behind her. She flipped it over to the back, seeing the clearcut instructions. She handed it over to Amaya. “They’ve got Lisa.”

“Jesus,” Amaya said, staring at the image. “And now...”

“They have him,” Sara responded, listless. “They have him.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are gonna hate meeeee.  
> But maybe some theories are confirmed...?  
> Only about 2 chapters left.

Leonard woke slowly, the taste of cotton and copper choking his mouth. He tried to clear his throat, but it was dry, so very dry. He was on his side, hard stone beneath him.

Pushing himself onto his hands and knees, he squeezed his eyes shut as nausea rolled through him, trying to recall the last thing that was clear to him. He gotten into the car and there had been someone in the backseat with him, someone he didn’t know. Then a cloth was pressed to his face, soaked in something wet and cloying, and that was all he remembered.

He coughed again, rolling up onto his knees. His suit jacket was gone. His watch and wallet gone, too. Not that they would have helped.

Leonard looked around the room. The stone walls and ceiling denoted some type of factory or parking structure. No windows and the door was a heavy piece of metal. Underground, maybe. Nothing else. Not a cot or a chair. Just stone.

He got to his feet and straightened his shirt as best he could, leaning against the wall. They wanted him afraid. Off balance. Begging.

They’d be disappointed.

He waited in silence, staring at the door. Footprints passed by his door multiple times, single and in groups. There were dozens of people in this building, none of whom seemed to take issue with someone dragging an unconscious man through the halls. That suggested a gang.

Not that he was surprised in the slightest.

So when the door swung open, Leonard didn’t blink at the sight of the three armed men. They frowned when he merely stared at them.

“You’re awake,” one of them said.

Leonard merely arched a brow, not honoring that with a reply.

“Let’s go. Boss wants to see you.”

“Peachy,” Leonard said, pushing away from the wall. “Lead the way.”

One walked in front, the hoodie he was wearing marked with a spade symbol. Royal Flush Gang. The other two pointing their guns at his back had black t-shirts and knives at their belts, as they walked through the bunker. Dozens of people lounged in rooms off the main hallway, playing cards, moving crates. If it wasn’t Hammond’s official headquarters, it was still enough to put him behind bars just on Leonard’s testimony alone.

Which meant no one intended for him to get out of here alive.

* * *

After a concentrated cup of caffeine, courtesy of Gideon, Sara was forcing herself to keep going. She went back to the Legends building, nearly vibrating as the energy shot through her. It had been two hours since Leonard went missing. There’d be nothing at the site of abduction, his office, or his home. She, Rip, Amaya, and Gideon poured through the doors, everyone else already assembled and waiting in the lobby.

She chewed her lip, waiting for Rip to speak, but when she looked at him, his eyes were on her.

“This is your case, Ms. Lance. You take the lead,” he said quietly.

Rip giving up command to anyone was a novelty, but Sara couldn’t spend the time to be amazed. She moved, caffeine and adrenaline powering her in equal amounts.

“Ray, we got Leonard’s phone. See what you can pull off of it,” she handed it to Ray.

The picture went to Amaya and Nate, “See if you can get a location, details of any kind, based on where or when this might be, and if you can’t do that, get me what you can off the kind of photo it is.”

Turning to Gideon, Sara said, “Keep the channels open for anything - they’re gonna be putting him somewhere. Someone’s going to see him. Emergency responders, traffic cams, anything. Work with Amaya to see if they overlap with where Lisa is.”

Looking at their newest recruit, Sara felt her guilt swim up briefly, but shoved it back down for later. “Mick, you and Rip consult together and see if there’s anything we missed. There’s a bunch of shit in my room, so start there.”

She exhaled slowly, “Everyone keep talking to each other. Make sure we all know everything. Never know when something might fill in a blank.” With her nod, everyone separated, except Sara and Zari.

Zari’s hands were already spread, “Sara, I didn’t fucking know. Her tracker had her in her house and she was checking in on the hour, up ‘til Leonard’s abduction. Somehow, they took it off without setting off the alarm and-”

“I know. They’re fucking good. Maybe they’re threatening her to keep checking in, maybe they knew procedure. Was there anything at her place?”

Zari shook her head. “No. Just the bracelet, which I already turned over to Ray. No sign of forced entry, so she either knew him or they took her from somewhere else.”

“She knows Hammond,” Sara responded. “Come on, you and I are gonna rotate between them, looking for anything. Smallest little clue and I’ll take off running.”

With a small nod, Zari fell into step beside Sara, glancing at her. “We’re gonna find them.”

“We’d better.”

* * *

Leonard shifted, trying to get some feeling back into his fingers. The zip ties around his wrists and ankles were tight and right up against his skin. Not enough to cut off circulation entirely, but it was close. The chair he’d been bound to was old, but not rickety enough to justify trying to tip it over in an attempt to break it. The chances were slim to none, and he’d rather face Hammond sitting up.

Of course, he’d been here for hours, and had yet to see anyone at all. He’d lost track of time, whatever drugs they’d knocked him out with combined with his exhaustion, and he’d ended up dozing multiple times. Could have been one hour or four. He honestly couldn’t tell any longer.

The room was sparse, much like his cell had been. There was a table set up, covered with a sheet, and he knew it was a scare tactic, trying to get him to panic over what might be hidden beneath. So he kept his eyes away from it, paying attention instead to the tripod and camera set up in front of him. The chair facing his. The jug of water and empty glass resting just out of reach.

The door behind him creaked open and Leonard did his best not to react. Footsteps echoed against the floor, passing by Leonard and stopping in front of him.

“Hello, Leo.”

Leonard raised his eyes, unsurprised in the slightest to see Hector Hammond in front of him. Pressed suit, beady eyes, thin mustache.

“Hammond,” Leonard replied. “Where’s my sister?”

“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” Hector said, ignoring Leonard’s question and taking a seat. He grabbed the jug of water and poured himself a glass, sipping from it delicately and smacking his lips together.

Leonard smirked, ignoring the way his mouth seemed to ache with thirst. “You haven’t exactly been subtle.”

Hammond chuckled. “No, indeed. In fact,” he put the glass down, “I’ve been quite eager to get you back. I’ve missed our little games.”

At that, Leonard couldn’t exactly feign apathy. His breath came a little shorter, his childhood nightmares coming straight to the forefront as Hammond leaned closer.

“Do you know why you were my favorite?”

“What do you want, Hammond? What case was it?” he asked, trying to distract him.

Hammond laughed, “Oh, of course. I should explain.” He took another sip of water. “It was never about a single case. If you had dropped Scudder’s, that would have been convenient, but I honestly didn’t care.”

Leonard glared at him. “So what? All those games and threats, it was just so I’d end up here? Thought your thing was kids.”

“It is. But for you, I’d always make an exception. And still, no. That wasn’t the goal,” Hammond sighed, patting Leonard’s hand. “It was never about the cases. It was about you. I wanted to see how much it took to break you. Would it be the loss of your peace of mind that drove you to recklessness? Your career? Your sister?”

“Where’s Lisa?” Leonard interrupted, but Hammond continued as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

“Imagine my surprise, when it was nothing other than a murderer that made the great Leo Snart turn martyr.” Hammond’s eyes grew a little crueler. “I expected better taste from you than Sara Lance.”

“You’re one to complain about taste. Where’s Lisa?”

“We’ll get to that, be patient,” Hammond said, patting Leonard’s knee. “I realized that if you had nothing else, you had her. That would be the thought of a love-struck fool. So we had to get her out of the picture.”

“Amaya was-”

“It wasn’t about the protection, Leo! It was about the  _ connection _ ,” Hammond gestured between the two of them, as if one existed. “That’s what I have to break.”

“Congratulations,” Leonard drawled, “Job well done. Now where is-”

“No,” Hammon interrupted, a frustrated laugh escaping. “No, it wasn’t. That’s the rub. You drove her off, as planned, but that connection is still there. I know, because of how you look when I say her name, and the way you drank yourself to sleep this week, and the way she chased after you just last night, trying to stop you from doing exactly what you did.”

Sara was there last night? He didn’t let anything show on his face, but from how Hammond was speaking, it was clear he was already aware.

“If love is what’s keeping you together, then that’s what I’ll use to break you,” Hammond said.

Leonard didn’t bother with a response, his heart hammering against his chest. He just prayed Hammond couldn’t hear it.

“No quips? No playful banter?” Hammond asked, arching a brow. “I’m disappointed.”

“If you’re so sure you’ve found my weakness,” Leonard managed to say, “then let Lisa go.”

“Do you know why I pick children?” he asked instead. “They’re all unique in their own ways,” Hammond said, getting to his feet. “Most are tenacious for a time. Some begin beautiful. Some end up sublime creations out of pain. But you, Leo,” he said, pointing at him with a smile, “you were unique. I never met a child who was so resilient, so unbreakable. I could do anything, and you kept coming back.”

“I wasn’t coming back,” Leonard snapped. “You were.”

“You had this...unequivocal hope. Maybe you hoped for someone to save you. Maybe you hoped that there was this goodness in either your father or I that would make the pain stop.” Hammond smiled, stepping over to the table and drawing back the fabric.

Silver implements, ranging from delicate to blunt, from sharp to barbed ranged across the wooden top. Wires, ropes, batteries, cables…everything Leonard had been made familiar with at a very young age. Everything that haunted his nights. Everything he worked his entire life to overcome.

“It was partly that hope that made me keep going. How much would it take to break that little boy? It’s like your father always said, isn’t it? When you back someone into a corner and you take away their safety nets, they’ll show you who you really are. I want to see who you really are, Leo Snart. Without hope, without love, without anything, what will you become?”

Leonard could do nothing but glare. He’d survived this as a child, he’d survive it now. He had to, for Lisa’s sake. For Sara’s.

“Even now,” Hammond said with a chuckle, “even  _ now _ , I still see some of that hope in you. Though you still don’t understand why this is happening.”

“Because you’re a demented psychopath?” Leonard suggested.

“Perhaps,” Hammond allowed. “But the twist is: this wasn’t my idea.”

The door opened behind Leonard.

* * *

Sara was working off of six cups of coffee, two energy drinks, and sheer spite. Gideon had nothing. Ray had only just managed to get some of the codes working on what he could salvage from the phone. Nate and Amaya had more luck - based on the photo, they determined it was an old factory building, and probably by a canal or railway. Still, there were hundreds of buildings to check. Gideon was working her way down a list, but it was slow going.

Sara and Zari were on their way to her room, when Zari’s phone went off. She waved Sara on, taking the call as she said, “It’s Lisa’s new landlord, I called him earlier.”

Sara nodded, heading into her room. “Anything?”

Mick and Rip looked up at her, and she read the answer on their faces before they spoke.

“Nothing,” Mick rumbled.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Lance.”

Sara sighed, sitting on the edge of her bed and staring at the board she’d made. So man fucking names and dates and places and-

“Nothing from the landlord,” Zari said, coming in. “Anything new here?”

“Not yet, but-”

Sara stilled, a stray thought passing by. “Shut up. Everyone shut up.”

...No, they couldn’t have missed that...would they?

“Ms. Lance, what-”

“Rip, shut the fuck up,” Sara said, her eyes on the board.

Getting to her feet, Sara started checking the logs again. Who’d visited the prison, who’d been involved in the cases, who’d known Scudder and Hammond and Leonard and…

Sara’s stomach turned and she spun on her heel, running to the conference room. She had to be wrong, but the more she thought about it, the more it seemed to be the most obvious answer. And if it was -

If it was, they were completely fucked.

“Amaya?!”

She poked her head out as Sara ran up, drawing back quickly, “Yes - oh, yes?”

“The picture,” Sara said, holding out her hand. “I need to-”

Nate handed it over, frowning. “We looked for everything we could, but there’s only so much you can-”

“Shut up,” Mick said, following her in. “Blondie’s got a thought.”

Sara stared at the photo, looking not at the background and floor, but the subject of the picture. The angle of her arms, the bulge in her pocket.

“Oh my god,” Sara whispered, her hands shaking.

* * *

Leonard didn’t look away from Hammond until the figure stopped to his right. He didn’t need to look away, because he knew.

He knew the moment the door opened. He recognized the smell.

He was the one who’d bought her that perfume, after all.

Lisa stopped next to Hammond.

“Hey, Lenny,” she said, no tinge of apology in her voice. “Surprised?”

“Honestly?” he said, distantly pleased his voice remained calm. Her voice  didn’t sound like Lisa. It sounded like... “Yes. I thought you were better than Hammond. You were going to school-”

“I dropped out.”

“To become what? Hammond’s lacky?” It clicked the moment he said that. “You’re his new hitwoman.”

“Shaping up to be quite the killer,” Hammond said pleasantly. “That car bomb was perfectly planted. The letters delivered with surgical skill. And the drive-by…”

Leonard laughed, humorlessly. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, betrayal is a family trait.”

“You’re one to talk about betrayal,” Lisa said, her voice rising slightly. “Mom died and you turned your back on this family. You sided with the pigs and the lawyers. You put Dad in jail.”

“I was protecting you. I was trying to give you a chance,” Leonard explained.

“No. You were getting rid of anything that reminded you of our family. Every quality Mom and Dad had, you refused. You locked away anything that made you like them. And you shut out anyone who reminded you of them, including me!” she said, stepping nearer. “You threw yourself into work and internships and school, and when I needed my brother, you weren’t there.”

“Everything I did was to help you-”

“Bullshit,” Lisa cut in. “Everything you did was to make yourself anything other than a Snart. You put away Dad, and his friends, and Hammond’s men-”

“I put away monsters.”

“What about your girlfriend?” Lisa countered. “You know she’s killed, too.”

Leonard glared at her, “So that justifies this?” He rattled the ties on his chair.

Lisa leaned towards him and he was startled to see tears in her eyes. “I want my brother back, Lenny. And if this is what it takes…” She sniffed, wiping her nose. “We’ll be a family again. You and me, and Mick, and Hector-”

“If that’s what you want, you may as well kill me now, Lisa.”

She drew back, startled. “What?”

“You want to know why I put Lewis in jail?” Leonard asked. “Because he let Hammond do that-” he jerked his head at the table “-when I was a kid. And he would’ve done it to you, too, if I’d fought him.”

“I know.”

Leonard drew back, something breaking in him. She knew. She knew and she still did this to him. She still locked him in here with Hammond. He stared at her, seeing now that tilt of her head, the twist of her lips, that flat stare.

God, she looked like their father.

Lisa turned to Hammond, “How much time do you need?”

Hammond just smiled.

“I’ll be back in an hour.” She walked past Leonard and towards the door.

“Lisa, please,” Leonard said. He’d told himself he wouldn’t beg, but-

But he was terrified.

She put her hand on his shoulder. “This is for your own good, Lenny. You’ll see. When there’s nothing left, things will be the way they’re supposed to be.”

“Lisa,” Leonard called back to her, his eyes on Hammond, who was staring right back at Leonard, the smile on his face familiar and haunting.

She shut the door, and Hammond’s smile widened.

* * *

 

“Sara.”

A hand shook Sara’s shoulder and she jumped, looking over. Zari smiled tightly, passing her a mug of coffee.

“Anything?” Sara asked immediately, clearing her throat.

Zari shook her head. “No. We searched Lisa’s old and new apartments. There were photos, cameras, and guns, but nothing that tells us where they are. Ray’s pulled texts off of Leonard’s phone, but the tracking on Lisa’s is off, and we can’t get her phone records. She must have had them deleted. And the emails were bounced between so many servers that he can’t pinpoint where they came from, not that they’re there now. We don’t have Hammond’s number, or we’d try that. Gideon is still going down the list, but-”

“But they could still be wrong,” she said quietly. “Keep me updated.”

Squeezing her shoulder, Zari left the conference room, leaving Sara amid strewn papers, empty to go containers, and Ray snoring in the corner. The rest of the team was working and she...she couldn’t stop staring at the clock.

6 hours.

It had been 6 hours and Sara hadn’t found him. She hadn’t stopped working, but she couldn’t find him. She said she’d always find him.

Nate and Amaya filed in, pouring over a map of Central City’s canals and railways. Sara joined them at the table, trying to see what they might have left to go over, when Gideon called through the intercom system.

_ “Everyone, report to the conference room immediately.” _

Sara looked up, Ray shifting at the loud voice. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Sara responded.

The rest of the team filed in, Gideon bringing up the back of the pack. She glanced briefly at Sara, paler than usual, as she typed something into the computer and turned on the projector. “Ms. Lance, you’ve received an email. A video.”

The team looked at her, none of them saying a word.

Already, she knew it wasn’t something she was going to want to see. She clenched her fists, and set her jaw. “Play it.”

Gideon hesitated, then pressed a button.

Lisa Snart appeared onscreen, staring into the camera. “Hello, Sara. I hope you’ve figured it out my part in this by now. If not...surprise, I guess. I want you to know that I wanted this to turn out differently. I just wanted him to choose me over his job. I wanted him to be my brother again.”

Sara glared at Lisa, her hands in fists next to her.

“You made that impossible,” Lisa said quietly. “This is on you.”

She stepped to the side and the team reacted differently. Mick swore, Amaya gasped, Ray said, “Oh my god,” and looked away, and Sara-

Sara’s throat closed up, but she didn’t move. She didn’t look away. She didn’t blink. She had to watch, every terrible second, because she needed to find something that she could use. She had to, for Leonard’s sake.

But, fuck, she wanted to look away. She didn’t want to see this.

Leonard was tied to a chair, his head hanging limply on his chest. Faint movement proved he was breathing, but only barely. The white shirt he’d worn to the party was stained with old and new blood, shredded and revealing cuts, long and thin, jagged and deep. His hands were battered and swollen. Marks went up his arms, vanishing beneath the cuffs of his shirt, layering over the scars that were already there.

Behind him, Hector Hammond stood, his hands on Leonard’s shoulders.

Mick took a step nearer, “Bastard-”

“I warned you, Sara,” Lisa said, turning away from Leonard without any sign of discomfort. “I told you not to let your emotions get in the way, but you didn’t listen. So now, this last act is up to you. We’ll send you our location tomorrow.”

She nodded at Hammond.

Hammond grabbed a glass and threw water over Leonard’s face.

Leonard coughed and sputtered, his head rolling back. In one eye, the vessels had burst, leaving it red. He glanced at Hammond and Lisa, then stopped at the camera. Sara watched as it clicked in his head; his jaw stubbornly set, even as he blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his vision. Sara was shaking with the effort of not moving, of not responding.

“To clarify, my dear,” Hammond said, one hand back on Leonard’s shoulder, “the deal is, come and try to rescue him, where we’ll kill you and see what exactly breaks loose in Mr. Snart. What kind of man he really is. Who he turns to when he’s got nothing. Or, don’t come and he dies, and all your hard work goes to waste.” He turned to Leonard. “Ask your girlfriend to come and rescue you.”

Leonard spat at his feet, spattering blood across his pant leg. Hammond sighed, then backhanded Leonard so hard his head snapped back.

Sara didn’t even realize she was moving until Zari grabbed her and held her still. “I’ll fucking kill him-” Sara strained toward the screen, as if she could reach out and grab Hammond and rip him through-

“Go on,” Hammond said, “beg. Plead for her to come and save you.”

Leonard shook his head, dazed, then looked up at the camera.

“Beg,” Hammond repeated, his tone growing sharper.

“Say it, you stubborn jackass,” Mick hissed under his breath. “Just say it…”

Leonard cracked his neck, a smirk appearing across his bloodied lips. A familiar, courtroom attitude smirk.

“Fuck, Len...don’t,” Sara whispered, as if he could hear her. 

“Lance,” Leonard said, his voice hoarse and almost worse than the silence from before.

Sara took a step nearer, Zari letting her go.

“Sara,” Leonard said, his voice growing slightly stronger. He stared into the screen, as if he could see her, as if he hadn’t endured everything he had over the past two days, and smiled at her. “Guns fucking blazing.”

Hammond growled and turned back to Leonard, blocking him from view, but Sara still heard Leonard scream.

The screen went black.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahaha, so how about another cliffhanger???  
> And it's the worst one yet!  
> I love you and I'm sorry.

Sara was back in her room pouring over everything she had, trying to find something they could use to get there faster. She couldn’t just sit and wait. It was still four hours until midnight and she couldn’t...she couldn’t stop.

Because everytime she closed her eyes, she saw Leonard staring into the camera, saying her name and-

And she wasn’t there to help him.

So she threw herself into finding any piece of information that might help narrow down the search. She’d originally told Gideon to repeat the video to find any indicator of where it could be, but Rip and Zari stepped in her way.

“Ms. Lance, you don’t-”

“No fucking way,” Zari interrupted. “We’ll do that. We’ll find something. You go...get some rest. We’ll call you as soon as something comes up.”

She didn’t argue, though she’d do nothing of the sort. So she shut the door and tried to find something, but really just kept herself busy.

She pulled up the files with the photos and threats, desperation sinking in. She grabbed a glass and the bottle of scotch, but only held the liquor for a moment before putting it down and taking the glass to the bathroom to get water, still staring at the files. She put both down to the side, rinsing her face to wake herself up a little bit.

Bent over the sink, she looked up, seeing the bags under and the panic in her eyes. She shook her head, trying to get ahold of herself and saw through the glass the distorted image of Lisa that had been delivered to Leonard.

Numbers swelled and magnified in the glass as she moved, straightening. Sara frowned, placing the glass over the picture of Lisa’s phone.

A cell phone number became visible through the magnification.

...they weren’t that lucky, were they?

She left the bathroom, photo in hand, and calling down the hallway, “Ray?!”

* * *

A hand pushed Leonard’s head back, and he tried to roll away from it. His hands slid slightly beneath the ties, slick with sweat and water and blood, but he couldn’t get out of reach.

“Relax, Lenny. It’s just me.”

He forced his eyes open, seeing Lisa crouching next to him. She held a glass of water to his mouth and though his principles wanted him to refuse, his body wouldn’t comply. He guzzled the water until the glass was empty, looking at Lisa a little clearer as she set the glass off to the side.

“So,” he said, his voice rasping. “This is the kind of family you want, is it?”

“I don’t want this, Lenny. But you left me no choice. You always picked the job over me. Even when I was threatened, you-”

“Gave myself up.”

“The first threat.”

“The fake threat,” he corrected her, every word causing his throat to burn, but unable to let her get away with lying more.

“You didn’t know that. And you still chose prosecuting Scudder.” She stood, taking the glass back to the table and setting it off to the side, the clean, clear glass very different from the red tinged implements next to it.

“And Dillon?”

Lisa tilted her head. “Oh, she was upset with Scudder. He was sleeping with me. So Hammond dropped her a letter, and she went in to kill him. If you’d dropped the case, he wouldn’t have died. Neither would Rosalind.”

“I had no proof they wouldn't keep threatening you if I gave in,” Leonard explained. “And if I took Hammond’s hitman off the street, it would leave him weaker, making his ability to get to you less.”

Lisa didn’t seem to care. “Justify it anyway you want. Fact was, you killed Dad by sending him to prison-”

“He murdered an innocent man.”

Lisa looked over her shoulder at him. “He was still our father. I was lost without him. You were too busy-”

“You never came to me,” he interrupted again. 

“Before Dad died, he got me in touch with Hector. He helped me. He was there for me. He trained me and taught me, he got me a position in his crew. I was able to get a new apartment. I had everything I wanted, but Dad. So he and I came up with this plan, after Dad told me he thought you threw his case. It took me a week or two to gather the courage, but then I sent that first letter.”

“Fine,” Leonard said. “You’re right. I was a poor excuse for a brother. So kill me. But leave Sara out of it.”

Lisa shook her head. “I’m sorry, Lenny. But I became who I am because you killed someone I loved. You have to go through it, too.”

“Kill me. Kill Sara,” Leonard said, ignoring the drop in his chest, “it won’t change the fact that I’m not Lewis. I’ll never be.”

Lisa dropped her eyes. “It’ll be close.”

“No, it won’t.”

Lisa turned away, “There’s only two options here, Lenny. Sara dies or you do.”

The first day Sara had walked him to work, they’d talked about his stalker. What he was like. What lengths he’d go to. Sara ha looked away from him, the breeze pushing her hair aside as she told him the honest truth.

_ “It’s gonna be you or him.” _

Leonard looked at the monster who was once his sister. “It won’t bring Lewis back.”

She glanced at him, and he was almost grateful to see hurt in her eyes. At least she still felt something.

“You’ve had a long day,” Lisa said, changing the subject. “I suggest you get some rest.”

She left him alone again, the door creaking closed behind her.

* * *

They had been that lucky. The number Lisa had been dialing was either Hammond’s or someone close to him. They’d been able to get a location off of it, an unlisted building amid the canals they’d been searching before.

Sara had committed it to memory, then left the conference room without a word. Now, she stood in the armory, going over the list of items on her person: black tactical pants tucked into her boots, three knives apiece in each boot top. Extra mags on her belt, along with her holsters. Her tank top was black again, untucked to allow freedom of movement and access to the knives on her back. A dual underarm holster over the top of it. Her hair was pulled back tightly, the half-finger gloves giving her knuckles some protection.

The door opened behind her and Sara didn’t flinch. She loaded her gun without turning. “Going to tell me off again?” Sara muttered. “Try to talk me out of it?”

“Not exactly,” Rip said

Sara turned, seeing not only Rip, but Amaya, Mick, Zari, Nate, Ray, and Gideon. All of them in tactical gear, armed up, and ready.

“We said we’d be right behind you,” Amaya reminded her gently.

Sara stared at them for a moment, unable to tell them how grateful she was. She settled for a tiny nod, “Thank you.”

“We’ve got your back,” Ray said.

Mick grunted, “I’m going for Snart.”

“Are you ready?” Gideon asked, looking almost unrecognizable in her outfit, but far more comfortable in the gear than Sara would have expected.

“Yeah, just one thing left,” Sara said. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

The group trailed down into the lobby hours before the address was supposed to arrive. At least they’d have the drop on Lisa and Hector. Sara went to her room, closing the door behind her.

It was quiet, and she paused by the window to glance at the pictures there. Reminders of who she was and who mattered to her, no matter what she did. She committed them to memory, making sure she wouldn’t lose herself in what she was about to do.

Sara went into her closet, grabbing a bag from the back and opening it. Her father had sent it to her a while ago, the last bit of Laurel’s things that he thought she’d might like. Inside, was a leather jacket. A white leather jacket.

_ “You look good in white.” _

Sara pulled it on, stepping out into the hallway. Zari was waiting and arched a brow. “They’re gonna see you coming a mile away in that.”

Sara merely gave her a grim smile.

Zari’s grin turned wicked, “You want them to see what’s coming for them. I like it.”

“Let’s go.”

* * *

When the door opened next, it was neither Lisa nor Hammond. Leonard lifted his head briefly, looking at the three armed men who came in. One of them grabbed the back of his chair, turning it towards the door.

“How much longer?” one of them asked.

The one behind Leonard shifted. “Not for another day. Then she’s gotta get here. If she comes at all. We’re just the first shift.”

The third one chuckled. “Oh, she’s coming. Didn’t you hear? These two are in love.” He kicked Leonard’s leg, a burst of pain spiking among the overall aches.

Leonard didn’t look at him, keeping his eyes at the door.

“I don’t think she’s gonna want him now. He’s all fucked up.” Plastic crackled and Leonard heard the spark of a lighter. “And from what I hear, she’s hot.”

“Maybe Hammond’ll let the Gang have a go before they kill her.”

Leonard blinked, cutting his eyes to the man who’d said that.

He grinned, the thick beard not quite disguising the scar that ran along his cheek and over his eye. “What’s the matter? Don’t like the thought of someone else fucking your girl?”

Forcing a cold smile, Leonard said, “Trust me when I say, you couldn’t handle her.”

The other two laughed, while the bearded one flushed in anger. “You piece of shit.” He stalked forward and jammed the muzzle of his gun beneath Leonard’s chin. Leonard lifted his head, unable to swallow it was pressed so tightly. “We’ll see if you’re still such a smartass when she’s bleeding out in front of you and I’m fu-”

“Shut up, Jack,” the one next to Leonard said, stepping forward. “Hammond told you to leave him alone, so stop posturing.”

“Fuck you, Derek,” Jack said, lowering the gun from Leonard’s throat and stepping up to Derek. “If I want to-”

A distant explosion rattled the building, dust pouring down.

Derek and Jack froze, the third man behind them exhaled, smoke clouding the ceiling.

Leonard flinched as gunfire began, far enough away to just sound like faint popping, but still definitely in or around the building. His guards began to panic.

“What the fuck?”

“She’s early, how the hell-”

“What’s going on out there?”

“Said it wouldn’t be for another day.”

Static echoed from the walkie talkie on one’s shoulder.  _ “Taking heavy fire, fall back-” _

He was drowned out in static, but Leonard heard a scream.

“What the fuck,” Jack whispered again. He glanced at the smoker, “Keep him quiet,” he said, jerking his head at Leonard.

The smoker drew a knife, holding it beneath Leonard’s jaw. The other two aimed their guns at the door, gunfire continuing over the next several minutes, getting closer and closer.

When it echoed in the hallway outside, Derek cocked his gun, with Jack following suit. They aimed directly at the door, the smoker’s cigarette burned almost all the way down to the filter, but he didn’t stub it out.

There was a strangled scream from outside, and a painful thud against the wall. Jack jumped, but none of them said a word. The knife was pressed a little closer against Leonard’s throat, and he leaned back, still feeling the pain as the blade cut skin.

Seconds passed and no one opened the door. The knife at his throat relaxed slightly, the warm, sticky trickle of blood rolling down his neck.

Jack lowered his gun thirty seconds later, and whispered, “Jesus, fuck, I thought for sure-”

The door slammed open and Jack flinched, aiming again. The smoker dropped the knife and scrambled for his gun.

The men around him weren’t expecting the figure in the door. A short, young woman, clothed in white and black, with a gun and a bloody blade in her hands. Dangerous and beautiful, protecting and taking vengeance.

His valkyrie.

Leonard hadn’t understood how anyone could have been afraid of Sara, with her weakness for spicy foods and hatred of formal wear or the childlike glee as she teased him. He couldn’t reconcile the woman he knew with the assassin everyone else seemed to remember.

He could see it now. Sara’s eyes were flat, her face nearly blank. The black tactical gear was intimidating and yet incongruous with the white leather jacket on her small frame. She moved silently, like a dancer across the floor, the weapons in her hands extensions of her arms.

He saw the assassin now.

So did the men in the room, but they were thrown off by the oddity of Sara. They hesitated.

Sara didn’t.

Two quick shots and flash of silver, and all three men dropped to the ground. Leonard heard someone choking behind him, but couldn’t tear his eyes away to look.

Sara shut the door behind her, locking it. She strode in, her eyes assessing the situation. She knelt next to Leonard’s chair, and he heard a brief struggle. He started to turn, but Sara shook her head.

“Don’t look,” she ordered.

He did as she said, and the struggle stopped. A strange, wet, cracking sound and she suddenly had the knife back in her hands. She turned, cutting the ties that kept him to the chair at his wrists and ankles. When she was done, she resheathed the blade and finally looked at him.

That careful blankness was gone, and her eyes glittered with unshed tears. She visibly swallowed, her eyes darting between his. “Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” he answered, hearing the rasp in his voice.

Her fingers trembled as they started to run over his wounds. The marks on his wrists that’d kept him tied to the chair, the cuts that ran up his arms, twisting and bisecting the scars already there, the tenderness at his shoulder, dislocated by Hammond or in his own pain-fuelled spasms, he didn’t remember, the bruising around his throat…

She drew in a shuddering breath and that sound broke him more than anything Hammond could have done. He leaned forward, taking her face in his hands. She pressed into his hand, turning her lips into his palm.

“I’m so sorry,” Sara whispered. “I should’ve been there-”

“No, this was my fault,” he interrupted. “I can’t believe you’re here after what I did.”

“Of course I’m here,” Sara said. “I told you from the beginning, if you need me, I’m there. Even if you were fucking stupid in trying to do this alone. And even though I was fucking stupid to buy that crap you said,” she smiled, even as tears started to spill over.

“I’m sorry,” he told her.

“Shut up,” she said, helping him to his feet. “I love you, you pain in the ass. And I’m not going to let you scare me off again.”

Leonard smiled, despite the pain that burst across his face as he did so. She loved him. In the faint imaginings he’d allowed over the past week, it was always ages before she’d forgiven him enough to speak to him, so to hear that she loved him...not caring that there were bodies around them, or that he was bleeding, he had to tell her, because he’d wasted too much time as it was - “I love you, Lance.”

“I know, why the fuck do you think I’m here?” she said, starting to smile as well. She guided him to his feet, the pins and needles from immobility forcing him to take a moment. Once he was up, she ducked under his arm, keeping him steady until he could stand on his own.

“Now what?” he asked, once he could move without too much pain.

“Well, I’ve killed most of the people here. So we’re leaving,” she said., leading him to the door. Pulling a gun out from the holster on her waist, she passed it over to him. “Safety’s off. Point and squeeze. Aim-”

“Aim for center mass. I remember,” he said. It felt heavier than the first time.

Sara stared up at him for a moment and he frowned. “What?”

“You look hot with a gun.”

“Just lead the way, Lance,” he said, his grin splitting his lip again.

She smiled and pulled away from him, taking a step towards the door. Leonard, he couldn’t help himself, he grabbed her wrist and tugged her back against him.

The kiss was brief, and it hurt, but it was the kind of pain that came with healing bruise or ache. It promised better things to come. Sara squeezed his arm gently, her lips gentle in spite of the violence he’d just witnessed from her. He knew it was only to save him that she’d gone to these lengths, and though he couldn’t help but feel terrible it had come to this, it was comforting to know that she’d do this to help him - the first bit of comfort he’d had since he’d convinced her to leave. Leonard held onto that moment, that feeling. He needed it if he was going to make it through the rest of this.

Leonard pulled away, far earlier than he wanted to, and rested his forehead against hers. “Did I mention I like the white jacket?”

Sara laughed weakly, “I missed you, hotshot. You ready?”

Leonard swallowed, then nodded. “Ready.”

She got to the door and Leonard watched that change come over her. How her shoulders drew back and her face smoothed over. “I cleared the hallways on my way here, but there could be more. You see movement, you shoot. If they’re Legends, they’ll tell me where they are.” She tapped a black piece in her ear. “The rest of the team is out there, securing an exit and working their way in, cleaning up the entirety. I just came straight through.”

She unlocked the door and looked at him. “Stay close, stay low. I’ll get you out. Understand?” She looked back at him, and though he could still see the mask of the assassin, he saw Sara beneath it all.

“Got it.”

She grinned and cocked her gun. “Let’s go fuck shit up.”

* * *

Sara kept her head cocked, doing her best to pick up every brief sound that echoed throughout the bunker. She moved silently, her head on a swivel. Behind her, she could hear Leonard’s footsteps and breathing. Instead of irritating her, as loud companions tended to do, it was soothing. It reminded her that he was still there. Still alive.

When she’d walked into that room, and seen him in person, she wanted to tear this building apart and kill everyone who’d had a hand in hurting him. She also wanted to get him out of there and never have him see any of them again, regardless of how many escaped in the process. Such conflicting emotions, and she wanted both simultaneously. 

Bodies cluttered the floor every few feet and she wondered what Leonard thought about it. Her. He didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t have missed them. Although she was concerned what he thought, she didn’t have any regret. They’d gotten between her and Leonard. They’d deserved it.

Leonard’s arm brushed the edge of her coat occasionally, as if he were afraid she would vanish. How many time had he thought he wasn’t going to make it out of here alive? How many times had he thought that she wasn’t coming for him?

She shoved those thoughts aside until they were somewhere safer, focusing instead on the hallway in front of her, and the man behind her.

“Zari?” she asked quietly into the comm. “Status?”

Faint gunfire clicked through as Zari answered,  _ “Still some holdouts over here, north exit’s still blocked. By the time you get here, it should be cleared up.” _

“On our way.”

_ “You got him?”  _ Mick asked.

“I’ve got him,” Sara responded.

Nothing more needed to be said at that point. She and Leonard worked their way to the north exit, finding nothing but the ones Sara had already taken care of. It was quiet, but she didn’t relax. Not until they were completely safe.

An exhale of air behind her had her turning, but a gun fired before she could see what it was. She watched Hammond slide down the wall, red blooming on his stomach. He started to gag,  Leonard stared at him, the gun still aimed at Hammond.

Leonard’s breath came a little faster and he wasn’t blinking, his eyes on Hammond. The gang leader tried to speak, but could only gasp.

Sara stepped a little nearer, her gun trained on Hammond, but with her free hand, she touched Leonard’s arm.

“Hey.”

He flinched, cutting his eyes at her.

“You want to end this,” she said quietly, “you’re well within your right. You can pull the fucking trigger and blow him away.”

Leonard looked back at Hammond, but his breathing never slowed. Sara kept her eyes on Leonard, keeping her voice low.

“But, once you do it, there’s no coming back. You’ll always have that with you. Is he worth that?”

He continued to stare at Hammond, who stared right back at him. The look in Hammond’s eyes was something almost like...admiration.

Leonard’s shoulders relaxed and he lowered the gun. “Death is too kind. I’d rather see him rot in a cell for the rest of his life.”

God, he was a fucking amazing man. Sara smiled gently, then grabbed the gun that had spun away from Hammond’s hand when he fell. Holstering it, she continued forward, taking a moment to relish in the labored, painful breathing of Hammond behind them.

It took quite a bit of her self control not to finish Hammond herself. It would be no loss of sleep for her to kill him. In fact, leaving him alive would be the only thing that cost her sleep. So, she took comfort in the fact that with that gutshot, she wasn’t entirely certain Hammond would live to see a court date.

They made their way back through the path Sara had carved, fewer and fewer bodies this way - they’d either become engaged with the Legends upon their arrival, or ran towards the middle when they saw Sara coming. There was a rumble up ahead that made her pause, but they continued forward when silence followed.

“Only a little further,” she murmured, not turning.” She tapped the comm. “Z? We’re almost out. Status?”

_ “Ugh. Assholes set off a small explosive. Don’t have a visual on the exit. Give us a couple minutes to sort it out.” _

Sara turned to relay the information to Leonard, but the lights flickered momentarily as another explosive went off above them, sending rocks and grit down the small staircase that led up to the exit.

She flinched, guiding Leonard away. “Shit. Come on, we can-”

The echo of footsteps cut her off and she stepped between Leonard and the echo, her gun raised.

“Stay behind me,” she ordered. She put her back to the collapsed exit, knowing people wouldn’t be coming through that way.

Leonard didn’t argue, but she also heard him step out from behind her. Just like that first day. It had to come to this, she’d called it the first day. Him or his stalker.

“Len,” Sara pleaded. She cocked the gun, but knew it was near useless. She couldn’t fire without hurting Leonard. She couldn’t save Leonard without firing. She couldn’t do anything but stand between them.

So Sara stood between Leonard and Lisa Snart as she appeared from the shadows.

* * *

This had to be the way it ended.

Leonard stepped to the side, ignoring Sara’s annoyed huff of air as she moved with him to stay between them. He could still see Lisa. She had a gun in one hand, and a button in the other. She seemed unfazed by the sounds of gunfire and the bodies around them.

“Guess you’re smarter than I thought,” Lisa said, nodding at Sara.

“Guess you’re more batshit than I thought,” Sara retorted.

Lisa frowned. “You don’t understand-”

“I understand perfectly,” Sara interrupted, taking a step closer. Lisa tensed, aiming her gun at Sara. Leonard took a step nearer, but Sara held out her free hand, silently asking him to stay back. “You miss your dad, so you’re trying to force Leonard to become him. Here’s the thing, though,” Sara said, taking another step closer. “Your dad was a fucked up shithead who beat his kids, killed innocent people, and didn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself.”

“That’s not true!” Lisa’s gun shook as she aimed it at Sara and Leonard slunk a little closer, not knowing how he could help, but knowing he had to do something.

“Of course it’s fucking true,” Sara said. “Otherwise, he never would’ve sent you to a sociopath like Hammond, knowing what he does. He was a cruel and selfish monster, and the only human thing he did was somehow have two decent kids.” Sara’s gun lowered slightly, and her voice softened. “You don’t want your dad. Not really. You want your brother.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him,” Lisa said, glancing at Leonard. He caught her gaze, listening to Sara keep talking, trying anything to get him out alive, because that’s what she did. And she’d do whatever it took, be it talk down a psychotic family member, or walk through cadres of armed men, or put herself between him and a bullet-

“You can’t force him to be someone he’s not,” Sara said. “If you do, then it’s not going to be your brother, and you’re not going to be happy.”

Lisa glanced between Sara and Leonard, and he held her gaze, hoping that maybe Sara had gotten through to her. That there was something of his little sister left in this woman, that recognized him.

Lisa stared at him, and he felt his heart sink a little as her glare hardened. “It’s not someone he’s not. It’s his potential.” She took a step to the side, facing Leonard full on. “This is the way it has to be.”

Sara was rigid between him and Lisa, her arms tense, her gun aimed at Lisa, but he knew it was a mostly empty gesture.

Leonard’s gun felt like lead in his hands, cold and wrong. Lisa’s eyes narrowed and she took a step forward, lifting the button in her hand. “I’ve rigged this whole place to blow. So, you either kill her or all three of us die, right here.” She lifted the button a little higher. “Time to choose, Lenny.”

He took a step forward, his own gun aimed at the ground. “Everything I did was to try and help you. Help us,” he said, moving up next to Sara. 

“You were trying to get rid of anything that reminded you of our family!”

He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re right. I tried to distance myself from what happened. And you were part of that. I’m sorry.”

“Sorrys mean nothing, Lenny.”

“Oh, grow the fuck up,” Sara snapped.

“Excuse me?”

Leonard turned partially to glance at her, reprimanding her under his breath, “Sara.”

She ignored him, putting her hand on his arm and stepping in front of him - he now saw how that could be annoying.

“You both had shit lives and tried to deal with it on your own. Killing your brother isn’t going to fix anything. And killing yourself sure as shit won’t do anything either.”

“You don’t know anything about us!” Lisa shouted, the gun raising towards Sara again. Leonard stepped in the way, but Sara shoved him back, forcing him to stay behind her now. Lisa’s hand was shaking worse.

“No, but I know a fuck ton about killing. And it doesn’t solve your kind of problem.”

“You don’t know that!” Lisa shouted, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. “Lenny, do it!”

“No,” Leonard said. “No matter what you do, I’m not Lewis. I’m not going to be the kind of man who hurts you.” He dropped the gun Sara had given him, drawing Lisa's gaze. “And I’m not the kind of man who lets you hurt her.”

“Lenny-” she pleaded, tears on her face.

“You either kill me or you don’t, Lisa,” Leonard said, tired. “But I’m not going to make the choice for you.”

He heard Sara’s breath behind him, steady and calm, though he could be condemning them both to death right now. Her hand brushed his shoulder, and she stood next to him, neither one of them behind the other. 

Lisa’s tears continued to fall and the gun wavered between the two of them. Sara’s hand was tight on Leonard’s shoulder. This could be their last moments, and Leonard couldn’t think of a single thing to say that could make this any better. He didn’t know what to do or say. So he settled for whispering, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Sara answered, forcing a small smile.

God, he loved her. 

Lisa lowered the gun, cradling the button in her hands. “You’ll have thirty seconds to get out after I press this.”

“Lisa,” Leonard said, taking a step forward.

“I’m sorry.”

“Lisa!” Leonard took a step nearer, but Sara grabbed his arm.

His sister pressed the button.

“Go!” Lisa shouted, grabbing the gun and waving it towards them.

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Then you’re going to die.” She looked at the button. “Twenty-five seconds.”

“Lisa-”

“Fuck!” Sara shouted, raising her gun and firing off a quick shot. Leonard’s heart stuttered for a second, but he saw the graze in Lisa’s shoulder, forcing her to drop the gun, and suddenly Sara was directly in front of her. Sara swung her fist and Lisa crumpled. Sara caught her, slinging her over her shoulders and lifting her up.

Sara jerked her head down the hall, “Run.”

He hesitated and Sara snapped at him, “You fucking run, Leonard Snart or I’ll shoot you myself! Fifteen seconds.” She tapped her ear, somehow holding onto an unconscious Lisa and her gun all the while. “Z, bombs going off in ten seconds, cover fire northwest exit now!”

Leonard kept time in his head, his feet pounding down the hallway, pain exploding in his arms, his sides, his chest, his shoulders, but he kept running-

10

He could see the stairwell up ahead, hear gunfire above and he prayed it was the Legends. Because no matter who it was, that’s where they were going.

9

Sara had caught up to and was keeping pace with him. She could run faster, but she wasn’t going to leave him. He saved his breath, knowing there was nothing he could say to convince Sara to go without him. If the roles were reversed, he’d do the exact same thing.

8

She was risking her life to save Lisa, because she knew how much it would hurt him to leave her behind. The woman who pretended not to give a damn about personal connections willing to give it all up. He needed to make it through this, because he owed Sara everything.

7

The stairs were there - two flights and he was hard pressed not to curse. The first two hurt, the next two were painful, and the following ones were excruciating. Sara grabbed his arm, hauling him up the stairs as best she could with her burdens.

6

The gunfire was getting louder as they approached the top of the stairs, his breath coming in short gasps and the edges of his vision going dark.

5

“When we get out,” Sara said, sounding winded herself, “run. Don’t stop. Don’t look back. Keep fucking running. I’m right behind you.”

4

He could see the door, gunfire so loud he could feel it along his spine. “Sara-”

“Save your breath. I know.”

3

They made it to the door, gunfire lit up the street, coming from both sides. A spray hit the door and he ducked, hearing Sara curse beneath her breath. He wanted to stop, but Sara shoved him on. “Run!”

2

He ran as fast as he could, pain lancing through every inch of him. Bullets ricocheted off the ground, and he wasn’t certain if they were aiming at him or just firing wildly. He kept running, his head hunched down as he focused on getting one foot in front of him, again and again. The pounding of his footsteps was the only sound he could hear amid the gunfire.

Wait, the only sound-

1

He stopped.

He looked back.

Sara wasn’t right behind him.

He saw her, fifteen yards away, still moving, still carrying Lisa, but slowly, even slower than he was. He saw the black pants and shirt, the white jacket-

The spray of red.

She met his eyes, her lips twisted in a smile.

0


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!
> 
> A sudden, but satisfying ending.
> 
> Thank you for taking this strange ride with me, and all of your comments and critiques. I appreciate and read every single one. I would probably still write without you, but it would be much less satisfying. So thank you for reading. <3
> 
> Now, I have to figure out what to write next, and I'm taking suggestions.

The funeral home was nearly empty. The smell of candle smoke permeated the air, the hushed whispers of the funeral attendants the only noise other than the faint music that played in the background. A single man stood near the casket, staring down at the figure within. Leonard Snart was sporting a suit, grey instead of black, and no sign of grief upon his face. No sign of any emotion, really. He tilted his head slightly, taking in the scene.

Hector Hammond’s face was pale and still. Leonard could see the faint powder of makeup, trying to make him presentable. The casket was only half open, hiding the damage that had been done by the explosion. Emergency services at the scene couldn’t confirm if it had been the gunshot or the explosion that had killed him, and Leonard didn’t follow up for a solid answer later. Hammond was dead. That was enough for him.

Shoving a hand into his pocket, Leonard took a final look, the sight of Hammond’s unmoving body confirming the truth in a way the reports he’d heard hadn’t. He’d needed to see Hammond for himself.

It seemed impossible that he was finally, actually dead. One of the figures of his nightmares, about to be put in the ground for good. A tiny part of him regretted that he’d never been able to make Hammond squirm in the courtroom, but this was probably better in the long run. No more threats, or hiding, or wondering if Hammond would come after him or anyone he cared about ever again. Letting out a quiet breath, Leonard let go of some of the fear he’d been carrying with him his entire life.

“Good riddance,” he said quietly.

As Leonard turned away, Mick separated himself from the wall and joined him as they walked out in silence. The bright sunlight made both of them blink, though it wasn’t even eleven. Leonard awkwardly managed the steps, his leg still sore, and his left shoulder wasn’t of much use. Though he was free of the brace, he had been warned against exerting it too much. That had proven to be more challenging than he thought, even with an extended vacation from work.

Mick got into the driver’s seat as Leonard eased into the passenger side. He was healing well, but still had a way to go. Stress fractures throughout, dislocated shoulder, iron deficiency, and he’d been monitored for concussions in the hospital. But he’d walked away from it, which is more than some people.

They got onto the highway, the hum of the wheels the only sound for a while. Then Mick glanced over at him, “How’s Lisa?”

“Settling in,” he answered. “She called yesterday. She sounded tired, but better.”

Lisa had been released from the hospital a few days before Leonard had. Her own wounds weren’t as bad - the graze in her arm from Sara’s bullet and some smoke inhalation. Upon her release, Rip Hunter had arranged with a few of his connections to have her sent to Gotham for psychiatric help. Though Central City boasted a few facilities, they’d all agreed that getting her out of the place where she had so many connections might be a better choice, at least at the beginning. She’d called him every other day once she was conscious, usually just a short moment to check in with him, but he was grateful. There had been a moment when he’d thought his sister was truly gone, but there seemed to be a chance that they might recover what they had.

“Let me know when you go out to see her,” Mick said.

Leonard nodded, wondering if Mick harbored some of the same guilt he did. Not that he felt he was entirely responsible for Lisa’s choices, but that didn’t make much of a difference in the guilt.

“You coming on Friday?”

Leonard thought it over, considering. Ray had organized another party to celebrate the end of the case and the official hiring and welcome of Mick, Ray, and Nate, though it was rumored to be a quieter affair. “I think so.”

“Good.”

The rest of the ride was comfortably quiet until they pulled up outside of his building, both of them of few words.

“Thanks for the ride, Mick.” He got out, leaning on the door as he said goodbye.

“Sure, Snart. See you around.” Mick smiled faintly behind his sunglasses.

“See you,” Leonard answered, closing the door.

With a brief nod at his doorman, Leonard took the elevator, the flights of stairs a little much now. He rubbed his eyes when the doors were closed, feeling more tired than the short day merited. Recovery was a pain.

The door dinged open and he stepped out, unlocking his door by muscle memory, his eyes still half closed. Closing it behind him, he locked it, hanging his coat on the hook by the door and not bothering to turn on a light.

The apartment was still and quiet, the light from the mid-morning sun gently illuminating the living room and piano. Leonard walked past all of it and to his bedroom, shedding the suit jacket along the way. Hanging it back up in his closet, he divested himself of the rest of the suit, exchanging them for a pair of loose sweats, and slid into his bed, deciding that sleep would be the best medicine.

A warm body shifted, pressing against his side. Without opening his eyes, Leonard moved his good arm so Sara could lean into his embrace, her head resting on his shoulder. He made sure to keep his arm light on her back, despite her assurances that the burns didn’t hurt any longer. Her bare legs tangled with his, the bruises almost gone.

“Is he still dead?” Sara asked sleepily, her arm wrapping around his chest.

“Still dead.”

“Feel better?”

There was no easy answer to that. He felt better Hammond was dead, but that didn’t undo everything that had been done. His death couldn’t erase the memories. But Leonard covered her hand with his, pressing his lips into her hair and reminded himself that they’d both made it out, alive and together.

“Yes.”

* * *

Sara woke up again around one in the afternoon, her internal clock completely fucked up with the recovery. She stretched, aches and pains helping her wake even more. Leonard was nowhere in sight, but she didn’t worry too much about it. She could smell coffee from the kitchen. Looking around, she saw one of Leonard’s shirts on the back of the chair and reached to grab it.

“Hey.”

Sara looked at the door, drawing her hand back with a smile. Leonard was in the entryway, two mugs of coffee in his hands. The sweatpants didn’t hide the bruising on his shoulder, nor the healing marks around his neck and wrists, or the bandages on his arms and chest. However, she kept her eyes away from them, knowing that lingering on them wouldn’t help them heal any faster.

“Hi,” she answered, settling back into the bed. Her wounds ached, but they were fading and soon would just be more scars. Leonard joined her, passing the mug over. She sipped it slowly, the warmth almost as soothing as leaning into Leonard’s chest, both of them reclining against the headboard.

“Mick asked if we were going to the party on Friday,” he said, his fingers wrapping around a strand of her hair.

Sara scoffed, “I said two weeks and you can’t even make it one.”

“Two weeks without leaving the apartment was an insane request, Lance.”

“Yeah, but it’s what I said I would do if I managed to get you through this shit.”

“Doesn’t make it less insane.”

Sara narrowed her eyes, then swung her leg up and over to straddle Leonard’s hips without spilling a drop of coffee. “Has it really been so bad?”

Leonard’s amusement softened, his thumb running over the curve of her cheek. He pulled her closer, pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. When he pulled away, he said, “Yes.”

She laughed, rolling off of him and back to her side. She leaned down and grabbed her phone from where it had slid under the bed the night before, sipping her coffee. As she came back up, she noticed Leonard looking away from her back, his eyes a little tighter. She sighed beneath her breath, hoping it would fade soon.

As Lisa’s explosives went off, Sara knew they’d been too close. The lucky shot that had pierced her side had slowed her down just enough. Luckily, Leonard hadn’t noticed and managed to get far enough away. She’d dropped Lisa, shielding her as best she could and ignoring the wound in her side. The last thing she remembered had been the kiss of flames along her back and shoulders.

The next time she woke up, she’d been in the hospital, Leonard in the other bed. They were both hooked up to a slew of machines, gauze covering most of his body and her entire back. Both of them had healed in leaps and bounds, but there was some scarring. Leonard didn’t always listen to reason, and was taking a little too much responsibility for hers.

“I have an invite, and fourteen fucking texts from Ray,” she sighed after a minute. “And six from Zari saying if we don’t go, she’d going to make Ray have it here.”

“Those monsters,” Leonard deadpanned.

She dropped the phone back on the floor, sagging back against the mattress and closing her eyes. “I just want to stay in this bed and rest.”

Sara heard the clink of ceramic on wood, and then looked up to see Leonard looming over her. “Who said you’ll get rest here?”

He kissed the juncture of her shoulder and Sara smiled, running her hands through his short hair. Their hospital stay had made any intimacy near impossible, not that either one of them were feeling up to it. When they’d arrived back at Leonard’s apartment, it had been three steps into the living room before Leonard had grabbed her, clutching her close like she was going to disappear. It had been hurried and desperate, both of them too intent on feeling the other to take much time with it.

The next several days, however, they’d had nothing but time.

Sara had learned that he loved it when she used her nails gently on his scalp, and that he was ticklish along his ribs, and that he loved holding onto her hips as she-

Well, screw just thinking about it.

* * *

Sara and Leonard arrived fifteen minutes after the party was supposed to start, parking by the side door and heading in with Sara’s card. Though neither of them spoke of it, it was kind of just assumed that she was moving in with Leonard. Amaya had dropped off a few bags of her things the day after the hospital, and though Leonard complained about where her clothes were - apparently all over wasn’t a sufficient answer - he merely smiled when she started throwing them into the closet. They’d danced around each other for long enough.

The hall was empty, though she still had to swipe her badge to be admitted to use the elevator. The other guests, much the same as before, would enter through the lobby. They stepped in, the door shutting behind them.

Sara stared straight ahead, remembering a night, not too long ago, when this elevator ride had been torturous. The smell of Leonard’s cologne, the sound of his breath, the sight of him in the blue suit - this one was a dark, charcoal gray and no less appealing - had driven her crazy. Though she was in no white gown this evening, she’d still made an effort, despite her complaints that she was only going to avoid Ray coming to the apartment. The blue dress was ankle length in the back and a little shorter in the front, flowing and made for dancing, sleeveless and relatively low cut while still being respectable. It had also been Gideon’s gift, sent over to her the day after Ray had sent the invitation. Leonard certainly liked it, though he’d been kept from expounding on how much by the fact that they were running late.

Sara glanced over, seeing Leonard staring, his eyes still darkening for her after almost two weeks of uninterrupted time. Of course, she felt the same way, her stomach tightening slightly, the will to resist somehow more difficult despite (or because of) the fact she now knew how he tasted.

Sara unconsciously licked her lips and it seemed to be all the invitation he needed. Leonard leaned down, catching her lips in a heated kiss, and she hoped the hitch in her stomach never stopped happening when he kissed her, because she wanted this feeling forever. His tongue swept against her lips and she moaned, pressing against him and wrinkling the suit as she grabbed his arms. His hands wrapped around her, forgetting about the burns he’d been so worried about in favor for pulling her closer. Sara followed him to the side of the elevator, his leg sliding between hers as he bumped against the metal wall.

As one of Leonard’s hands started running up along her thigh, she shivered, pulling back to laugh breathlessly. He grinned, tugging her against him and kissing her relentlessly, both of them half drunk on one another. 

The elevator stopped and they broke apart quickly, Sara’s dress falling back down into place and Leonard straightening his tie. Both were smiling, and as the door opened, Sara fixed the edge of Leonard’s collar. She stepped out into the party, Leonard right beside her. She felt his fingers on her wrist and turned her hand to entwine their fingers easily. Leonard squeezed her hand, and they dove into the fray.

Ray’s party, despite being smaller, was still over the top in an entirely different way.

He’d taken the rooftop room and converted it once again into more of a lounge. Low couches lined the sides, the music piping through the stereo, but no live band. Food was out and available, but no servers, and drinks were make it yourself. It was still crowded, but there were fewer people than last time, and more of them were familiar to Sara. Liaisons from Star City and Gotham, companies that were similar enough to be friendly without poaching one another’s clients. Sara nodded at Oliver Queen, a man she was familiar with in both good and bad ways, then led the way over to the Legends in the corner.

“Gotta hand it to you, Ray,” she said as they walked over. “You should be a party planner.”

“Yeah?” he asked, grinning. “I think I have a knack.”

“Forget the whole technological mastermind,” Leonard added, “this is clearly your calling.”

Ray laughed, then pointed a finger at Leonard, “Tuesday lunch?”

“Sure,” Leonard said, after a slight hesitation.

“Perfect. I’ll meet you outside your building. Food preference?”

“He loves Ethiopian,” Sara interjected with a smirk.

Leonard cut his eyes at her, humor dancing within the depths.

“I’ve got your number,” Ray said, “we’ll talk.”

Leonard nodded, smiling as Amaya kissed his cheek and walked past them, joining Mick and Zari at the bar. That left Sara and Leonard with Rip and Gideon, as Nate was making a fool of himself on the dance floor with several others.

“You received my email?” Rip asked Sara.

She nodded. It had been a summary of events after she was knocked unconscious. The team had performed admirably, even Ray and Nate, making this their official induction to the Legends. No one, other than her and Leonard, had suffered any significant injuries, which had eased some of Sara’s guilt about involving all of them. “You got my report?’

He said, “Yes. And you?” Rip turned to Leonard.

“I received it,” Leonard said.

“And?”

Sara looked at him as he stared at Rip. “I accept.”

Rip smiled, a rare and genuine one. “Fantastic. We’re lucky to have you on retainer.”

Leonard shook the proffered hand, and smiled himself. “It should prove interesting, at the very least.”

“That’s a kind way of phrasing it,” Gideon said, resting her hand on Rip’s arm. “I’m going to get a drink.”

“I’ll join you,” Rip said, nodding at the two of them and then joining the others.

Sara turned to him. “So we’re working together, now?”

“On occasion,” he said, tugging her towards the dance floor and facing her. Sara smiled, resting one hand over his shoulder and keeping the other entwined with his. Leonard’s hand found the small of her back and traced small circles there, holding her close. “Is that okay?”

“Of course. I like working with you,” she said. She glanced at the others, “Can’t promise these other fuckups will be as much fun as me, but…”

He laughed and Sara’s smile was a little too soft to be humor. She loved that he was laughing. The first couple days had been too serious, and too quiet. Laughter was better, and she was determined to get him to laugh every day, even just once.

She rested her head against his chest, the same small smile appearing when he pressed his lips into her hair.

“I love you,” he murmured against her temple.

“I love you.” She wasn’t certain he heard her, but the words vibrated through her chest and into his, so he felt them nonetheless.

The song ended and there was a throat clearing over the stereos. They parted, seeing Rip at the front of the room, microphone in hand.

“Excuse me, may I have your attention, please?”

The crowd quieted down, and Rip smiled faintly. “I’m not a fan of speeches, so I’ll keep this short. Thank you to all who’ve come, especially Arrow Authorities, from Star City.” Oliver and his friends smiled at the greeting. “We’re here tonight for several reasons. First, to welcome Mr. Ray Palmer and Mr. Nate Heywood to the Legends family. They’ve proven their worth and expertise over the past few weeks and we’re lucky to have them.”

Nate and Ray waved in response to the applause, wide grins on both their faces, and Sara smothered a sigh that there would be two proverbial puppies in the building.

“I’d also like to welcome Mr. Mick Rory. He’s been working as a legal investigator for several years, but has decided his temperament may be better suited here. Another worthy addition.” Rip gestured towards the bar, where Mick just nodded once before returning to his conversation with Amaya.

Rip continued on, “However, the biggest event has been the closing of our most recent case. Mr. Leonard Snart has agreed to remain on hand, and we’re grateful to have him as our legal counsel, considering our job qualifications and...experience.”

Sara snorted quietly, and Leonard glanced at her with a smile.

“This has been a difficult case, and we made it through because of our teamwork, dedication, and combination of skills. No one person could have done this, and I consider myself lucky to work with such a talented group of Legends.”

He raised his glass and Sara smiled up at him, knowing that praise from Rip was rare indeed.

Rip took a sip of his drink, then glanced at the man next to Sara. “You wanted to say a few words?”

* * *

Leonard, girding his metaphorical loins, stepped away from a surprised Sara and took the microphone from Rip.

“Good evening.” He paused, getting his thoughts in order. “I’m certain I’ll never be able to repay the Legends for what they did. What they gave me.” His eyes surveyed the room, pausing on Mick, who Leonard had seen more in the past month than in the entire year previously, Ray, who had plans to make changes in Leonard’s city that he had been working for his whole life, Nate, who was including Leonard in every single game invite and promised not to relent until he accepted, and Sara, who…

She smiled.

“I’ll do my best to return the favor.”

He returned the mic to Rip, who said another quick thank you. On his way back to Sara’s side, Leonard was intercepted by the tall gentleman Sara had noticed upon entering. Muscled and close shaven, he had to be nearly ten years younger than Leonard, yet carried himself with the weight of decades.

He extended his hand. “Mr. Snart. I’m Oliver Queen of Arrow Authorities.”

“Pleasure,” Leonard answered, shaking his hand and conscious that Sara was closing in on them.

“I’m an old friend of Sara’s,” Oliver said, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. Leonard wasn’t entirely certain what Oliver meant by that, so he just arched a brow. “Rip allowed me to review your case.”

“How kind of him,” Leonard said.

“Comparing methods,” Oliver explained. “For research purposes.”

“Hmm.” He glanced over as Sara arrived, her hand immediately finding his. Oliver only spared her a nod.

Unperturbed by Leonard’s response, or lack thereof, Oliver continued, “It seems that there were several opportunities for this to turn out differently, so I wanted to know how do you feel about everything?”

“What do you mean?” Leonard asked, ignoring how Sara tensed next to him.

“Do you wish it had ended differently?”

“I’m not one to complain about situations beyond my control,” Leonard said slowly, considering his words before enunciating them. “I regret the pain everyone experienced, but would I have done anything differently?”

Had he made all the right choices?

He shouldn’t have lied to Sara to protect her, though it was done with the best of intentions. He shouldn’t have tried to drive her away in the beginning. He should have been honest from the get go. He shouldn’t have been blinded by family relationships. He shouldn’t have fallen into Hammond’s trap. He shouldn’t have shot him - but he should have.

There were too many questions, so he went back to the first question.

Did he wish it had ended differently?

Had this not happened, he would have woken alone, worked through the day, skipping meals, had a glass of scotch, played the piano, and gone to sleep, to do the same thing the next day.

Today, he’d been woken by soft, sleep-warm kisses on his face. He’d had a lazy breakfast in sweatpants on the couch, listening to Sara expound on one of her many adventures. He’d worked for a bit, interrupted by a phone call from Mick and having to explain to his friend the difference between business casual and black tie. By the time that was over, Sara had ordered lunch and was bringing in cartons of Chinese with a grin. Lunch turned into a good-natured argument over what qualified as a utensil, which turned into a minor food fight, which ended in the bedroom…

Now, he was here, among friends and with plans for the week, a perfect, challenging, frustrating, amazing woman at his side. There were regrets, of course, but everything he’d done or not done led him to this point.

“No,” Leonard answered simply.

* * *

It was late that night, or early the next morning, and he was wrapped around Sara, his chest against her back and his arms holding her tightly. Maybe one day he would be able to sleep without holding her, but it wasn’t going to be soon. He needed that reassurance, that feeling of safety.

“Did you mean what you said?” she murmured, her voice soft in the dark. 

Leonard kissed her shoulder, not asking her what she meant. “Yes.”

“Even though…” she trailed off, but he felt her fingers running along the bandages on his arm, fewer and further between than they were a week ago, but still present.

“I’m not a fan of words like ‘destiny’ or ‘fate,’” he said, his words muffled by her skin.

Sara rolled over, settling on his arm, her hands against his chest as she met his gaze. Leonard pushed her hair out of her face, studying the lines between her eyes.

“But I think people are meant for things,” he said quietly. “And that our struggles lead us there. Your skills make you uniquely qualified,” he said, remembering the words she’d chosen that first day on the job. “Legends is what you were meant for, and you thrive there.”

He didn’t mention the hints in Rip’s email that he wanted Leonard to be part of the company not only for legal counsel, but to help him transfer all of it into Sara’s name, as she would be inheriting the company over the next six months. She was the heart of the company, reminding them why they did what they did. She led them to where they needed to be, regardless of how difficult the road. She was an excellent choice.

“My past makes me a...driven lawyer,” he added, moving on. “And on their own, they make us incompatible with most people.” Leonard drew his hand down her shoulder, his fingers sliding along scars and healing bruises to find her palm and entwine their hands together. “The journey may have been hell, but it led to this.”

“Thought you didn’t like destiny,” she said quietly.

“I don’t. I am partial to the idea of soulmates.”

Sara grinned, that wicked little smile of hers that made his heart leap every time. “Why, Snart, you’re a fucking romantic.”

“I know what I want, and it’s you, Lance. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Her smile faded, though it wasn’t fear on her face. “Was that a proposal?”

He considered it, knowing the ring he’d purchased the day after being released from the hospital was sitting in his nightstand at this very moment. He wasn’t playing around. He wasn’t being dramatic. He wanted this life, right now.

“Not yet,” Leonard responded quietly.

Sara’s brow cocked up, as if she were weighing the truth of his words. Finding some answer on his face, Sara kissed him gently. “I’m not going anywhere, hotshot.”

The implied answer assured, Leonard kissed her again. “I wouldn’t change a thing, because it led me here.”

“Where is here?” she asked, rolling onto her back as Leonard leaned over her.

“To me.” He punctuated this with a kiss. “And you.” Another kiss. “And me and you.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said, already slightly breathless. “Me and you.”

Leonard smiled, “Good. Now, enough talking.”

“Fucking finally.”


End file.
